


Bargaining With Shadows

by TrashDemonx



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abstinence, Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Spectrum Character, BDSM, Background Relationships, Bets & Wagers, Canon-Typical Violence, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, It's explicit from the start though :), M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Sex-Favorable Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Sexual Fantasy, Shadow antics, Tags In Each Chapter, Tentacles, breath play, slow burn of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29264421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashDemonx/pseuds/TrashDemonx
Summary: No, I’ll tell you! What if I was good, I mean real good, the kinda against-all-odds redemption good, a fucking saint!Then you’d just have to pull me back down.Right?A hopefully interesting spin on a Radiodust deal fic. Exclusively Angel's POV.This is my first fic for Hazbin!Expect bi-weekly updates and long-ish porn with plot fic :)Chapter count now updated as I'm almost finished drafting it all out :)
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 190
Kudos: 204





	1. Dirt

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I've used the closest tags I could for Alastor's sexuality. I'd say the best way to sum it up quickly would be sex-positive, grey-Ace. All sexualities and especially Ace-spectrum ones are valid and respected here, even if Al's Ace-ness is different to yours. If you want more details on this or anything else in the fic for your own comfort I'd happily answer anything in comments or (on [ Nsfw Twitter](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon)).
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: References to off-screen abuse, One-sided Val/Angel, Sex work, drug/alcohol reference, masturbation, fantasising, hints of masochism/pain kink/breath play, sex toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I've been hurt, And I don't care, 'Cause I'm burning inside_ \- Dirt, Depeche mode.

Door. _Lock it!_ Stairs. _To many fucking limbs._ Alright, one foot then the other. _Ouch._ Forget it, crawl. Turn left, few more meters and -second door. Keys in the bag. _Finally!_ Click the lock. Stand up and walk through the door. Lock that one too. Turn around and _Bed-Bed-Bed-_

Angel face planted the ball of blankets in the center of his bed with a heavy sigh. 

_What a fuckin’ day_.

Angel buried his head into the mattress. When he first came here, he’d loudly complained about the crooked bedframe and sagging mattress. A free room was a free room though, and right now he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

It was the early hours of the morning, far later than Angel had originally planned on staying out. It wasn’t like he had a fucking say in anything where his job was involved, but his beauty sleep was surprisingly low on the list of everyone’s priorities. Plus, Angel wouldn’t be half as exhausted if he hadn’t spent the last few hours waiting around ‘just in case’, only to be told he wasn’t even needed. Which was just _peachy_. Whatever. It was done, and that’s what mattered. He didn’t have to smile sweetly anymore or resist punching any creeps lights out. Well, at least until he dragged himself out of bed tomorrow and had to start the damn cycle all over again. 

From the depths of his room, Angel could hear the disgruntled noises of a stroppy pig that did not appreciate being woken up. Especially not after he’d been left alone all day. Well, not completely alone, both Charlie and Husk had promised to look in. But that didn’t matter in Nugget’s eyes. His Moma had abandoned him. Angel sighed loudly and used all four of his arms to drag his listless body to the edge of the bed, clicking his fingers to try and entice his pampered pet over for some apology scratches. When nothing brushed up against his extended hand for a few minutes Angel gave up, rolling over on his back and letting his sockets slip closed. 

_“C’mon baby.”_

_Dirty fingers in his hair- smoke crawling down his throat- hands grabbing at him from all directions._

_“Make yourself useful, my friends want to get to know you better.”_

Well.

Fuck sleep then. 

Despite every bone in his body begging him not to, Angel pushed himself off the bed and started pacing around his room. The mess was getting a little too much after all, even for him. He did a half-hearted job of picking up days worth of discarded clothing. He collected a handful of tops, one skirt that sadly looked like it wouldn’t survive another wash cycle, and several pairs of dirty underwear. He paused when picking up the suit jacket he’d been wearing earlier in the day and scoffed under his breath. 

He’d almost forgotten about this morning with all the shit that happened after. 

Charlie had gotten them all up far too early to attend one of her ‘fun time sessions’. The name was a complete red herring. What could be called fun about a bunch of over-enthusiastic lectures buttered up to sound like some hippy self help bullshit?! Angel had no idea what gave Princess the right to sound so high and mighty considering some of the stuff she’d done. But that was beside the point. And it didn’t mean Angel wasn’t wishing that he could have stayed there all day instead of what he’d ended up doing. 

Or that he didn’t have fun. 

For one, there had been a stack of dirty dishes on the table behind Charlie that Niffty was decidedly not happy about. Watching the tiny cyclops try not to lose her shit and implode was funnier the more time that went on. And Husker falling asleep several times and snoring loudly was priceless, especially with Vaggie slapping him awake. And then there was Alastor’s fucking microphone. The Radio demon was uncharacteristically quiet at first, almost fooling Angel into thinking he was listening intently to Charlie’s speech. But just when Angel was starting to question if hell had truly frozen over when he wasn’t looking he heard it. The faint sound of a laugh track every time Charlie said something really sincere. It was hilarious, and Al had the perfect poker face to get away with it.

Angel had struggled not to fall apart with laughter then, and it was making him giggle under his breath now. He’d almost forgotten about why he’d been cleaning in the first place until he caught sight of a cigarette burn on his shoulder in the mirror. _Right_.

It was a little harder to carry all the clothes with shaking arms, but Angel managed to chuck the pile in the direction of the overflowing hamper. It was something at least, and he was satisfied that he’d managed to ride out the worst of his attack. But with sleep off the table, he needed a distraction. Unfortunately, getting high wasn’t an option. Mostly due to his unwillingness to leave the warmth of the hotel. But that wasn’t the whole story. He was, sorta, taking another shot at getting clean. Angel didn't use on his own anymore, not since the time Val had cut him off cold turkey for a week. That level of withdrawal was enough to scare anyone straight in the figurative sense. And even when he was pressured to take something at work, Angel did everything he could to avoid the subject or spit things out. So that was another something he had going for him. 

Getting blackout drunk was a tempting thought for a while. Angel briefly considered the logistics of crawling back down the stairs to raid Husky’s secret stash before groaning loudly. It felt comparable to running the length of the pentagram, so that was out too. 

_The box under his bed, however._ that was something Angel would gladly shuffle around to retrieve. 

Long claws twitched as he selected his toys for the night. An unreasonably large part of his mind was repulsed at his body's willingness, all things considered, but he quickly told those thoughts to take a hike. Angel wanted, no _needed_ , to do something for himself tonight. He was already prepared, so that took away some of the worry that he would be too tired to do a thorough job and end up tearing something. And the thought of Val expecting him to do nothing but cry himself to sleep tonight fuelled a spiteful second wind.

Angel’s lips curled into a sly smile as he selected his current favourite toy. It wasn’t his biggest, but it had bumps and curves in all the right places. _And why shouldn’t he spoil himself?_ He wasn’t prepping for a shoot or a john. It was just him. Angel got himself comfortable in the sheets, his first pair of hands slowly pushing up his torn tank top as the second got to work on removing his hot pants. His cock was only partially hard, but that didn’t matter. Angel had more than enough tricks up his sleeve to get himself in the mood. His claws trailed over his soft body while sockets lowered, vision blurring at the edges as he let a fantasy appear in his mind’s eye. 

_A strapping horse demon burst out of the water of Gravel Beach, body glistening in the setting sun as he emerged from the disappearing tide. He walked, in slow motion, to where Angel was sprawled across a beach towel, lying in wait for the hunk to take him. The lifeguard wore a swimsuit that barely covered his huge bulge, something Vaggie made sure everyone knew was a perfect example of how the ‘male gaze’ transcended genres and-_

Wait. 

Angel groaned loud enough for it to echo around his otherwise silent room. He should have known that watching Hellwatch in the hotel lobby was a mistake when every fucker under this roof thought their opinions counted for shit. He knew he was in hell, but not even being able to fantasise about his favourite t.v. show was definitely a new kinda torture. 

Angel screwed his eyes shut this time, forcing his hands to be a bit rougher as they squeezed the fur on his chest. If he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering then fine, he’d happily take some inspiration from his fellow residents instead. Husk had looked mighty fine wearing a suit the other day after all. Angel had no problem conjuring up that image again, his second pair of hands reaching lower on his body to brush along the head of his cock. Angel was just about to get into it… until he was reminded that the bartender looked decidedly less attractive at the end of the night. And the image of him passed out in a pool of his own making was one Angel couldn’t get to leave his head once it set up camp. 

_For fucks sake._

Determined not to be deterred Angel scrambled around his brain for something, _anything_ to get him back on track. He wrapped a hand back around his cock as a flurry of bodies on top of him flashed through his mind, making him grimace. He hadn’t exactly been lucky in the client department recently. The blur of sweaty bodies pushing into him with no regard for his own pleasure wasn’t exactly what he’d call good fap material. In fact, most of them he’d rather forget. 

Angel knew he was getting off track trying to figure out the last time he’d actually come when not on film, but he honestly couldn’t remember. He wished he hadn’t when he was assaulted with visceral visions of the back of a limousine, cruel laughter, and-

_-you’re not gonna cry, are you Angel cakes? Or do you want me to give you a real reason to-_

Angel almost slapped himself out of pure frustration. Work had no place in his head right now, especially not anything to do with the creep he had for a boss. Valentino was like a fucking bad stain, impossible to get rid of when he clawed his way into Angel’s head. Something which the overlord took great pleasure in reminding Angel of. There was a time when Angel was starry-eyed in Val’s presence. When his promises didn’t make Angel feel like he was drowning in treacle. Before Angel saw him for who he really was. Trash. A disgusting rat without any class or regard for anyone but himself while still insisting Angel call him ‘Sir’. 

No, if Angel actually wanted to come tonight he needed to think of someone worthy of the title. 

Hate was rising like bile in his throat, but Angel was stubborn. He forced himself to focus. His hands had stilled at the interruption, but they started moving again when the image of Valentino morphed into something far more appealing. The garish, constantly stained coat turned into a refined suit. Sure it was frayed at the edges, but it looked expensive. And it felt soft when Angel ran his hand down the wearer's arm. In return, their gloved fingers were skimming across his chest, touches light but intentional. Making sure Angel would be trembling in want for more. Angel mimicked his imagination, gasping when his body arched upwards, chasing that feeling. 

The hand around Angel’s cock squeezed rhythmically, coaxing him to hardness, his pulse racing as more details filled in the mystery guy above him. While not being forceful, their attention to Angel’s writhing body was anything but gentle. Angel pressed himself down against the bed, the fantasy consuming him to the tune of his legs being pulled open and held apart by silk-pressed slacks. It was so real that Angel would swear he could really smell a heady mix of pine and ground coffee. He was suddenly feeling far too empty. Angel scrambled to pick up the forgotten toy from his side, dick twitching as the figure loomed over him. 

It was all going so well until his eyes trailed upwards to his mystery lover’s face. 

The glare from Val’s glasses had evaporated, but the stare that replaced it was just as intense. Red fire and a yellowed grin spreading across an all-knowing face. 

_No-No- Not a fucking chance!_

Angel froze, eyes snapping open as he was wrenched from fantasy. He still had his cock in his hand, and the toy positioned ready to push into his hole but he was not fucking doing this. Angel _promised_ himself he wouldn't think of Alastor like that but here he was, cock practically weeping at the mere thought of that smartly dressed bastard. 

Well, he promised himself he wouldn’t think of Al like that _again._

Hands covered Angel’s face as he tried to talk himself down from the inevitable. It wasn't that he had any shame in his attraction to Alastor, far from it. In his opinion, anyone with eyes could appreciate the Radio Demon’s looks. But if that didn’t get them, Alastor’s charm would. More than a few strong-willed demons had fallen victim to that quick wit and fucking smile. Even if the demon behind it was suspiciously oblivious. 

No, Angel's problem was he’d jerked off thinking of Al one too many times. Which wasn’t like him at all. Angel had the occasional crush, but it was usually solved by getting whatever demon he was infatuated with to shove their dick down his throat a few times. He didn’t lust after anyone for a prolonged period of time. It was bad for business, and he was still dealing with the fallout of the last time he’d dared to think he was worth anything more than a passing interest. 

There was something about the fact he couldn’t have Al but had to share space with him and see him every day that was driving Angel crazy. It was manageable, for a while. But Angel had to draw the line somewhere, stopping his secret habit about a week ago. Al had nonchalantly touched the small of his back in passing and Angel had popped a boner prominent enough that he had to pull his jacket down while escaping to his room. 

It just wasn’t a good look. And since Al had a grand total of zero interest in him, Angel felt more pathetic. 

_On the other hand…_

This week had been nothing but pure torture. The nightly stress from work was something Angel was desensitised to, even if it had made him more irritable than usual. But every day at the hotel had felt like he was wading blind through a battlefield. Despite the war in question being entirely in his head. It was like a switch had been flipped. Since he’d sworn off his nightly indulgences, Alastor’s had turned up the intensity of his attention. 

Their usual playful banter was bordering on sounding like actual flirting, what with Al developing a sudden obsession with innuendo played off as ignorance. And then there were all the times where Angel had wandered into the kitchens or the bar, only to have Al manifest in his path. Seemingly out of nowhere. He even had the nerve to chastise Angel for his carelessness when they accidentally ‘collided’. Angel would be about to tear him a new one when he’d tilt his head and smile like he could see the sinful thoughts floating round Angel’s mind. 

And the _touching_. Alastor had found every excuse he could to touch Angel, even more so than usual. He would brush him down for looking dusty, which was just as unnecessary as it was fucking rude. And Angel felt like his arm should have dislocated with all the pulling Al had done to show him this or that. He was all _‘Come, come Angel! Someone’s being torn apart right under our window!’_ while dragging Angel across the hall with an iron grip. All one-sided, of course. Angel knew from day one that Alastor positively freaked over any contact he didn’t initiate. 

For someone who hated to be touched, Alastor was awfully comfortable with all sorts of platonic, ‘hands-on’, activities. 

Even the nice memory from this morning was feeling awfully like Al trying to get his attention. Angel whimpered as he remembered, hand already straying back to his crotch. Alastor had lured him in by appealing to his sense of humour, getting Angel to subconsciously move closer so he could listen to his radio. And when his hand brushed against Angel’s thigh, well that was just an innocent mistake. Angel was throbbing in his hand, thinking about how easy it would’ve been to move even closer. He wished he’d taken his chances, swung his legs around a svelte waist just so he could feel hot breath on his neck. 

Angel took a closer look at the toy now abandoned between his legs. Bright reds and deep blacks swirled in a marbled design, fake cock thicker at the base than at the head.

 _...Almost uncannily like a certain someone's colour scheme._

Angel wasn’t dumb. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew even the shadows in his room were judging him at this point.

_...Fuck it._

No one would know. And any complications his indulgences brought were a problem for future Angel to deal with. The last lingering feelings of guilt or shame vanished the moment he closed his eyes and the vision of Alastor reappeared, clearer than before. Angel would be lying if he said he hasn’t spent an inordinate amount of time studying the Radio Demon’s face, watching the subtle changes to his ever-present grin and imagining that same face contorted with desire. Specifically, a desire to fuck Angel until he couldn’t walk straight. 

Angel was a flurry of limbs and heavy breathing as he scrambled to resume his previous position. Angel’s hand moved embarrassingly fast on his cock as the vision leered at him, red eyes piercing the darkness over the wanton display. Even imaginary, Angel could feel the heat of Alastor’s eyes on him, craving the real thing so much he almost caught his claws on his painfully hard cock. Angel whimpered as his other hands circled his hole, somehow remembering to make sure he was still prepared enough to push the symbolic toy inside. He was practically shaking in anticipation when a moment of clarity made him pause. 

This wasn’t real. 

Now, Angel was under little illusion that the Radio Demon would ever be handing out invitations to get into bed with him. But in every fantasy he’d had of Alastor to this point, it had been inserting him into an amalgamation of his porno scripts. Which was fine, it got the job done, even if the idea of Alastor doing a badly acted cumshot was something that had Angel in stitches afterward. But if Angel was really gonna jerk himself off over that charming asshole, _again_ , then surely the itch would be better scratched with something closer to reality?

Underneath Alastor's flamboyant act, there was danger. A demon that wanted nothing more than to hurt others, one whose name had powerful overlords shrinking in terror. What would it feel like to have Alastor alone; to have all that raw power directed at him? Angel chewed the bottom of his lip as the stereotypical porno in his head morphed into something that made his heart hammer in his chest. Al was still grinning, but his mouth had a sinister curl to it as he pushed Angel to the bed, tearing away what little clothing clung to his panting body. 

Angel’s hand quickly mimicked the scene in his head, squeezing the fluffy mounds hard enough to hurt. He gasped and arched into the touch, hand on his cock never slowing even as Angel’s noises crept higher in volume. This was more like it. Even if the Alastor in Angel’s head could never compare to the unpredictability of the real thing. It didn’t stop Angel from imagining Alastor’s eyes going wild as he wrenched his legs apart. Angel wriggled against nothing, fur standing on end as he teased his entrance. Begging the figure in his head to do the same. 

“Shittt-” Angel whimpered, his cock leaking when he roughly pushed the toy inside his ass. 

He didn’t stop until it was all the way in, imagining Alastor’s grin growing as he squirmed. Angel shoved his final spare hand over his mouth, feeling almost too intense when the toy brushed against his sensitive walls. His hands may have paused, but his mind didn’t get the memo. Sticking to the same track, he was flooded with questions over what the Radio Demon would really be like in bed. As much as Angel wanted it, he couldn’t imagine the real Al being lost to the throes of passion. At least not right away. Alastor never gave away his hand and the thought of his cold stare looking down on him as he slowly moved inside had Angel reeling. He fucked himself with the same rhythm, biting down on the hand over his mouth to try to stop the garbled mess of moans from escaping. The sharp sting of his fangs contrasted with the overwhelming pleasure, forcing a part of Angel he usually ignored apart from in jest right to the surface. 

_Would Alastor want to hurt him?_

Angel’s eyes went wide, hand rhythmically squeezing the base of his cock to try not to topple over the edge just yet. The answer was obvious; no matter his charms, violence was Alastor’s native language. The glimpses of Alastor’s private affairs Angel had from living with the guy were far more alarming than any rumours. Alastor could snap him like a twig if he wanted to, give Angel injuries that would take weeks to recover from. He was dangerous, cruel, and insanely powerful. 

And Angel must’ve had his wires crossed as here he was; falling apart at the thought of being one of the Radio Demon’s victims. Only with Alastor’s passion for suffering being reframed into something far more erotic. 

The mounting dam of desire Angel had been ignoring all week had broken. Angel imagined those gloved hands scratching down his body, hard enough to bleed, all while he begged Al for more. That knowing smile would twist impossibly upwards, delighted in seeing Angel reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess. Angel writhed in his bed, his whole body desperately seeking more stimulation. He bucked against the toy as imaginary hands forced him down, making him lie there and take it. 

Angel was in too deep, unable to stop himself from running with whatever idea popped into his head. He used the last of his energy to extend his final set of arms, ones used so sparingly that he could pretend they were someone else’s when they settled around his neck. He thought about all the times Alastor had playfully threatened him, all the times' Angel teased him until his eye twitched, and squeezed. 

“Oh fuuuuuuck-” Angel choked out, using his hand as a gag long forgotten in favour of clutching at his sheets, “Please.” 

Angel’s hands tightened around his throat until the room blurred at the edges, making it easier to convince himself it was really the Radio Demon’s claws around his throat. It hurt, every time he dug into the existing bruises he knew he would only be making them worse. But he couldn’t stop. Angel had done nothing to deserve the marks he currently had, and pretending they were caused by Al instead was strangely thrilling. They became marks he wanted, Ones that he fucking _begged_ for. They would be proof that it had happened, proof that the increased attention wasn’t in Angel’s head. Proof that Alastor actually wanted him. 

Angel’s fur was damp with sweat, the hand on his cock was slipping from his own fluids. And he still needed more. He desperately tried to move the toy inside him as fast as he imagined Alastor wrecking him. Angel dragged himself onto his knees, earlier exhaustion forgot in favour of chasing the unimaginable high. His markings were glowing, spare hands taking advantage of how sensitive he’d become by running over every inch of his body. Angel bounced on the toy, mouth hanging open as moans hit the cold night air unchecked. Hands came back to his throat and Angel would swear he heard the Radio Demon’s honeyed laugh beneath his moans. 

Angel bottomed out on the toy when imaginary Al licked his teeth, slammed Angel’s hips down, and used their new angle to sink those fangs into Angel’s chest. 

There was nothing but pure bliss when Angel came. He cursed profusely and rode himself through while sticky ribbons painted his chest. For a few moments he was giddy, moans tapering off into contented sighs as But his breathing eventually slowed, aches in his body returning, the high over far too soon. Angel groaned and covered his face with his arms when rational thought decided to make a reappearance. 

_And the award for the biggest mistake of the year goes to..._

It didn’t matter how good that felt, no amount of mind-blowing orgasms were worth the can of worms Angel had reopened. He was pretty sure he’d actually managed to make it _worse_ with his whole ‘think about he’d really be’ bullshit. He’d managed to keep a fantasy Alastor and the real one separate, and the whole point of stopping his nightly indulgences was because those lines were being blurred. _But now?!_ Angel knew he wouldn’t even be able to look in Alastor’s direction without remembering tonight.

 _Without remembering how hard he’d come with Alastor’s hand digging into his throat._

Why was he so fixated on that creep, Angel had no idea. Ever since he came here he'd been very clear about his disdain for other demons. Angel even more so than the others. But even the great Radio Demon would be forced to admit there was a distinct difference to his attitude from when he first stepped foot inside the hotel. He was being civil at least, even friendly at a push. And by that logic, his attitude towards Angel must’ve changed too. So, yeah, Alastor had clearly rejected his advances when they met. And then several times after that. But the bite behind his words had all but vanished the more he got used to Angel, even before he started flirting back. 

Maybe that was why Alastor wouldn’t leave him alone? Angel could convince himself that he imagined the tension between them easily. But the touches, the back and forth, the fact he was willingly sitting close enough to Angel that their whole bodies were touching?! He couldn’t explain that away.  
Or rather, Angel was tired and he didn’t fucking want to anymore.

Alastor brushed off the advances Angel used on everyone. That was understandable given how much of a flirt he was, but Angel hadn’t ever seriously asked he was interested? Angel worried on his bottom lip. He knew deep down that this ‘thing’ that Angel had imagined between them was likely Alastor was fucking with him, reveling in the fact he was driving Angel crazy. But there was a tiny, minuscule chance that Al could be putting across stronger and stronger hints that Angel had been too dumb to pick up on. 

Angel’s balled hands hit the bed as he frowned up at the ceiling. He wasn’t getting anywhere. He tried to forget it, watching specks of light dancing as he willed himself to let it go. 

He could lie there, bargaining with shadows all night. Or he _could_ ask for a second opinion. 

It was a stupid idea. Alastor would either be completely confused by Angel’s half-mad ramblings or he would laugh in his face for being manipulated so easily. Most likely the latter. Angel knew he was setting himself up for failure, but he clambered out of bed, throwing on whatever clothes he could find before he lost his nerve. 

Angel opened the door to an oddly quiet hallway. He’d half expected to find someone knocking on his door to complain about his noisy activities, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Emboldened by Satan knows what, Angel marched towards Alastor’s room. Only just having the sense to wipe the remainder of his previous fun on his pants. It was sure to leave a stain, one Al would notice in a second, but Angel didn’t care. A shock to those archaic sensibilities could be all Alastor needed to finally break, to push Angel against the nearest wall and-

Angel’s hand hovered in the air parallel to Alastors door, seconds away from knocking.

_What the fuck was he doing?_

He couldn’t. All of Angel’s usual bravado drained out of him in seconds, leaving him feeling like a dumb kid hesitating to knock on their parent’s door after. Alastor was scary and powerful and yada yada but Angel had _never_ had a problem giving the guy a piece of his mind until now. Or anyone for that matter, considering all the punishment he got for backchat. 

But it was one thing to challenge Al when they were in the middle of a verbal sparring match, it was another to wake him up in the middle of the night. Especially to start demanding shit out of nowhere, likely making a scene that he’d regret for years. And If Alastor really was playing with him, then maybe Angel should consider actually having his wits together to deal with this shit. 

A quick shake to rid himself of the rest of his nonsense had Angel backing away from the door. He knew he was resigning himself to a much slower torture than just ripping off the bandaid right there and then. But it was a better idea than knocking and seeing that too-wide grin while he was still worked up. Angel recoiled further while trying not to think about how quickly that could end with him begging the other demon, promptly turning tail to slink back to his room unnoticed. 

He’d deal with this in the morning. Maybe. But not now. Not when he was having to tell himself several times that the radio static that followed him back to his room was just a figment of his overactive imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As mentioned I'm a few chapters ahead so really excited to drop chapter two considering who is in it ;)  
> Comments/kudos are always appreciated! :)


	2. Talk Show Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey dudes! Thanks for reading part one. This next one took a little longer than expected because a) it's a biggie and b) I'm really sick. Fingers crossed it's not the big bad and I'll be updating with chp 3 when planned. :D
> 
> Tw for mentions of Abuse (not in huge detail, but we get flashes of Abuse physical, mental and sexual as well as drug abuse)
> 
> Tags: Touch starved character, self-deprecating, Alcohol use, Smoking, Inebriated/tipsy character, flirting, dubious deal making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _You want me?_  
>  Fucking come on and break the door down  
> I'm ready- Talk show host- Radiohead.

Before he’d managed to secure a place at the hotel, Angel hardly saw daylight. A creature of the night, only getting up when everyone else was winding down for the day. Save for the rare occasions he was sober enough to be struck with a weird craving to get up early and watch the sun setting over pentagram city.

But 6 am? Angel hardly knew her. 

Still, there was some calmness to be found as he walked through hell’s deserted streets. It felt eerily familiar to the year he’d found himself without shelter on purge night, something Angel would never forget in a hurry. Any other bastard crazy enough to be up at this time was put off going outside due to the heavy downpour of rain.

The fact that Hell even had rain was fucking ridiculous but unfortunately logic wasn’t gonna save Angel from getting soaked. He shivered, hugging himself closer through clinging clothes while hardening himself to any comfort he could take from it. It was pathetic, really. Everyone wanted a piece of Angel, hundreds of hands pawed at him on a weekly basis, thousands more jerking their owners off over his back-catalog. Yet a simple embrace from his own fucking arms threatened to break him into a thousand pieces. 

It was Angel’s fault, as usual. He’d set himself up for failure by having the gall to think Val would be courteous for once. _Was it that much to ask to be dropped off on his way home?_ It wasn’t like Angel had worked overtime. Or that the downpour came out of nowhere, meaning Angel was unprepared. Nope, a sliver of kindness was apparently too much to ask. Actually, it was worse than that. Val wasn’t being absent-minded or neglectful, that asshole took great pleasure in pushing him out the door while he counted up the money Angel had earned for him. He was being cruel on purpose. 

_Cherry on the fucking cake._ And to think, Angel had thought yesterday was rough. He should have counted his fucking blessings when he’d managed to crawl home on the right side of 3 am. 

And that no one in the hotel bothered to wake him up either. Especially not after his detour into absolute insanity when he almost knocked on Alastors door. 

Even with everything that happened tonight, that glaring lapse of judgement still haunted him. He’d spent the day avoiding everyone at the hotel until he managed to slink out early. And then, when shit had really gone south, Angel backtracked. He retreated into fantasies of Alastor’s silky smooth voice being the one he could hear groaning above him. It was just adding more regret to the ever-growing pile, sure, but if he hadn’t then he would have killed someone. 

Or worse, Angel would have tried to _leave_. 

It wasn’t so much that the individual parts of the night were unbearable. They fucking sucked, and there was no sugar coating that. Everything together though? Angel felt like he’d sunk to a new low.

When he showed up at the studio, early, Val somehow blamed him for yesterday’s shoot being a waste of everyone’s time. It was all bullshit, everyone knew it. But no one questioned the guy writing their cheques, did they? At least, no one did on Angel’s behalf. So, after Val had given him a public dressing down he brushed things over by making sure everyone on set was sufficiently coked up. Enough to make sure Angel’s treatment was nothing short of brutal.

But that wasn’t even the _worst_ part. Angel held his shit together through the shoot, taking everything with a smile on his face like the professional he was. A few hours pulling every trick in the book, literally tying himself in knots to make sure every cumshot landed on his face. Angel was exhausted, but at least somewhat proud of a job well done. They’d even managed to wrap early. No need to dub over his award-winning symphony of fake moans this time. But of course, there was such a thing as being too good. _Suspiciously good,_ Val called it. Angel had only just wiped himself down when his boss grabbed him, dragging him down to the bottom floor, ranting about Angel not trying hard enough.

Angel had found himself standing on the corner of the red light district before he realised what Val meant. This wasn’t part of his contract. Not that he’d fucking seen that thing in years. But he specifically remembered Val promising him he’d never have to film and hook on the same day, lest he wear out the merchandise. Angel had almost lost his cool, almost told Val to fuck himself with a vow never to return. But Angel knew better than to try his luck there. Again. No, he’d just pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his purse, chain-smoking them until a familiar car pulled up to the curb. 

A single tear fell down Angel’s face as he turned down another deserted street. It was immediately washed away by the rain, but that didn’t stop the stab of shame over not being able to hold it together for the final few blocks. But the memory of the brief relief he felt when seeing a familiar car pull up made his sockets sting. 

While Angel couldn’t remember his name, they had a good rapport. The John was some kinda dog demon. Alright to look at, not great in bed, usually tipped well. Angel had let himself relax a little while making small talk from the passenger seat. He had it all planned out; he’d make conversation, they’d fuck, Angel would sweet-talk a ride back to the hotel and he’d wire Val money from his account immediately to get him off his back. He should have known something was up when they drove past both their usual spots and the street the dog Demon lived on. 

He shoulda ran when they pulled up at one of Val’s strip joints. 

There was no reason why the john wouldn’t want to fuck him here. There were no rules against backroom fun in hell, and if Angel remembered right they’d already fucked after one of his shifts before. The siren in Angel’s mind never stopped blaring though. Panic kept rising in his chest, but he didn’t know how bad it was gonna get until the John had him face down on a plush couch so he couldn’t see the door creep open. 

But Angel sure as hell heard the familiar click of heeled boots on the wooden floor.

Angel almost broke into a sprint as he remembered what happened. As if that was going to save him replaying everything until he was physically sick. He could still feel Val’s fingers gripping his chin, forcing Angel to see himself reflected back in those glasses. 

Message received loud and clear. Whatever Angel did was at Val’s bidding. Nothin’ more than a Whore to use and abuse for his own entertainment. 

Whether it was the rain or tears that blurred his vision, Angel didn’t know, but he sobbed with relief when he spotted the familiar circle-bulbed sign. He couldn’t get his key out of his purse fast enough, the feeling of closing the door behind and sinking to the floor almost as sweet as the first hit of the night. No matter how much he complained about the place, it was actually starting to feel like home. Nowhere near Val’s turf, a huge bonus if you ignored the walk home. And the lack of rent meant Angel could actually afford to lie his way outta work occasionally and hide away from his problems. 

Something that he was definitely going to make a more regular occurrence after tonight. Val knew he was here. Angel couldn’t keep anything from him if he tried. The fiasco on the news had put the final nail in the ‘I’m laying low, baby’ coffin. Val had been uncharacteristically ok about it, excluding the beating he’d got for lying. Likely because Angel had given him all the money Charlie paid him. And when Val needed to make sure he was still under his thumb, he’d pull stunts like tonight. This one would surely stroke his ego for months to come. 

At least, Angel _hoped_ that was the case. 

He shook his head. Work was over. He no longer had Val breathing down his neck. And he was within walking distance of a reasonably stocked bar.

As soon as Angel reached the bar he went straight to the bottom cupboard, pulling out every variety of hard liquor his multiple hands could carry. Husk was gonna kill him for raiding his not-so-secret stash, Niffty wasn’t gonna freak at the mess he knew he’d make, and Vaggie would screech in his ear in the morning. He didn’t care. That was a problem for sober Angel to deal with. Drunk Angel was well on his way to raising a glass in solidarity. Several, in fact. 

What he’d poured into the shot glass was a mystery, but that first mouthful was an instant balm to Angel’s soul. The rush of warmth soothed him despite still being dripping wet from the rain. He needed a lot more where that came from though, pouring himself another as soon as he finished the first. Angel’s tolerance was high even before he was damned to hell, but his body eagerly prepared for what was to come. It wouldn’t be long before he could forget. Before he had enough alcohol in his system to stop the constant whirring in his head. So he could sleep without nightmares. 

After a few shots, Angel calmed down enough to pour himself a real drink. It wasn’t one of Husk’s fancy cocktails but he managed to throw together enough sugary mixers to make it taste half-decent. Angel would’ve thought he’d be used to the wide array of bitter tastes different spirits had by now, but then he’d always had a sweet tooth. He took a few gulps and winced when he got a mouthful of undiluted rum. He was so busy searching under the bar for something else to add to his concoction that the rapidly approaching sound of heels on a wooden floor reached his ears far too late. 

_It can’t be… he wouldn’t- I can’t-_

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that really _the_ Angel dust out of bed before midday? Stop the Press! Such an unfathomable turn of events is destined for the front page!”

_Oh thank fuck._

“Good mornin’ to you too Al-” Angel replied with a wave of one of his hands over the top of the bar while the others frantically wiped the tears from his cheeks.“-And If ya must know, I ain’t ‘up’. I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“Well, that certainly explains drinking at this hour. Somewhat. Well, nevermind! As the saying goes, It’s always five o’clock somewhere!” Alastor continued with a light sprinkle of laughter from his radio accompaniment.

Angel stood up, turning to face the other demon while biting his tongue to stop any stray insults escaping. Or anything else...inappropriate. Al looked just like he always did; Smartly dressed, erratic movements, unwavering smile. Angel couldn’t make eye contact though. Yeah, imagining the guy railing him until he couldn’t speak made things awkward, but it was more than that. Al’s voice was comfortingly familiar, threatening to break him further. Even his creepy-ass face was soothing Angel’s nerves after the night he’d had. The hotel was making Angel soft, showing him life didn’t have to be one panic attack after another.

And that kinda weakness was dangerous.

“So Sugar, as much as I enjoy your company-” Angel started, hiding a million different emotions behind a thin smile, “You mind bothering someone else? Really can’t be taking any attention away from my date here.”

Angel made a show of waving the half-empty glass up, making sure Alastor was watching when he poured the rest of it into his mouth. The sudden rush of lukewarm liquid made him shudder, a reminder that the warmth of the hotel had done little to dry him off when his clothes audibly dripped. And Angel wasn’t the only one who noticed. Alastor had not taken up his invitation to leave, if anything he’d moved closer to the bar when Angel wasn’t looking. 

“You should really get out of those wet clothes.”

“Why, you offering to help, baby?” Angel quipped without thinking, smile never wavering despite heat rising to his cheeks. When Alastor didn’t respond right away he huffed, dropping his voice down to a mumble, “Forget it.”

“Nonsense.”

With a snap of Alastor's fingers, Angel’s whole world shifted. When Reality stopped warping he found himself on the other side of the bar, perched precariously on one of the stools. Al was standing on the other side, the swap in position making their heights more evenly matched. Angel lost any trail of thought he had in the piercing eyes he’d been trying to avoid. 

“You know you really shouldn’t-” Angel started when the ability to speak came back to him, snapping out of the hypnotism when he realised he was far more comfortable than he’d been seconds ago, “What the?”

He looked down, finding he was wearing the fluffy pajamas that previously resided on top of his pillow. All of Angel’s eyes flitted between himself and the smug face on the other side of the counter, wondering just what eldritch power wardrobe changes came under. Or worse, just how much had Al seen of him while swapping out his clothes?! 

“Warn a guy next time will ya?!” Angel huffed, folding in on himself. “Jeez.”

The sound of radio stations being rapidly flicked through was a hard one to hide in the otherwise silent hotel. _Well, good_. It was nice to know that he could actually get a reaction out of the guy that wasn’t borne from his disdain for Angel’s life choices. 

“My apologies-” Alastor said, the word sounding far too unnatural amongst the crackle of his softly distorted voice, “Shall I top you up?”

It took Angel a moment, but the bottle in Alastor's hand was enough to kick his brain back into gear. 

“Now you’re talkin’!” 

Angel extended his glass, far too surprised by the turn of events to really consider the consequences of the Radio Demon being _nice_ to him. He watched Al transfixed as he mixed various liquids with far more flair than anyone had any right to. Angel only knew a little about Alastor’s human life, but if he had half the charm in life as he did in hell it was no wonder they never found the bodies. The show was over all too soon, but the drink itself was enough of a consolation prize. 

“It’s good, really hit the spot” Angel offered, the sting of guilt over snapping earlier too itching incessantly “And thanks. For the clothes. Sorry, everything's just-” 

Angel gestured with all four hands, snorting when Alastor nodded in understanding,

“-So how did ya-” His blush was back, “No, wait- I don’t wanna know.”

That earned Angel a genuine chuckle, a sound he knew was gonna set up permanent camp in his head without his permission. That was one more thing for sober Angel to worry about though, for right now he was just grateful for the company. He finished the drink Alastor made faster than he intended to, almost squealing with delight when the other demon immediately fixed him another. Angel wasn’t a hundred percent sure he wasn’t dreaming, but even with that in mind couldn’t resist pushing his luck. 

“You know-” Angel started, clicking his tongue while daring to lean over the bar a little, “It’s so much better when you’re not drinking alone.”

“Unlike you, I actually have things to do today.”

Angel made a show of pouting, resting his head on his hands as he fluttered what he had left of his eyelashes “Just one?”

Alastor paused, sighing heavily as he pulled down a small tumbler from the shelf and poured himself a single measure of whiskey. Neat. _Noted._

“Cigarette?” Alastor offered, conjuring a box out of thin air and extending one in Angel’s direction. 

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Angel took it, balancing it between his teeth while patting himself down in search of a lighter. The pajamas were sadly empty, but when Al clicked his fingers to produce a small flame Angel felt a cold shiver run through him. Then he almost died again when the Radio Demon leant across the bar to light the smoke himself. This shit, this shit was the kinda stuff Angel _knew_ he hadn’t been imagining. Still innocent enough to be played off as a coincidence, though. Infuriatingly. Angel took a long drag of the cigarette to steady his nerves, not wanting to ruin the first good thing to happen to him today with his overactive libido.

That fucker got him enough trouble as it is.

Angel sat in silence at first; his mouth conveniently occupied between drinking and smoking as his heart rate returned to normal. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. Al’s ever-present radio was playing softly as he busied himself between reorganising the stock and making sure Angel’s glass was never empty. It was hard not to stare. Even with heat still burning his cheeks, Angel couldn’t will himself not to watch Alastor being so _normal_. It was bizarre, but at least it made him realise why Alastor was so hard to get out of his head. That damn deer was just full of surprises. 

As Angel relaxed more, so did his lips. He didn’t know how or why he’d started talking, but Angel soon heard himself rambling about nothing. Al was actually _listening_. Sure, he still took any opportunity to quip at Angel’s bad habits or plague his stories with cheesy sound effects, but that's just how they were together. Weird as that sentiment sounded. 

Things were going well, even for Angel’s extremely low standards when it came to not pissing the other demon off. There was only one incident when they accidentally put their hands in the same space causing a screech of radio static. Despite Alastor’s knee-jerk reaction, it was obvious it had been an accident. Hell, If Angel didn’t know any better he would swear the Radio Demon shot him an apologetic smile for the faux pas. 

Between the Alcohol and surprisingly good company, Angel was easily lulled into a false sense of security. When Al poured him yet another drink, he just couldn’t help himself. 

“What’re you- you-'' Angel blinked rapidly, suddenly realising he was feeling it more than he expected. Stupidly, that emboldened him more.“Tryin’ to get me drunk, ain’t ya?”

Alastor didn’t even look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replied, literally pulling a replacement bottle onto the counter. 

_Well, if that’s how he wanted to fucking play it-_

“Yeah, yeah. Mr. Butter-won’t-melt. Just pouring my drinks, getting me all kinds of fucked up-”

Angel was ranting. But there was a point he was trying to make. _Maybe._

“You’re the one doing fillin’ up ma glass up but _I’m_ the one that’s gonna get yelled when they wake up. It ain’t fair.”

Angel pointed a finger at Alastor, or at least, in his general direction.

“Ya been nursing that one since we started. Lightweight!” 

Alastor seemed to move in slow motion. He finished his drink in a single gulp and to Angel’s surprise, actually poured himself another one.

“Baseless accusations,” Alastor took a sip from his new drink before mirroring Angel’s pose, pointing his finger far too close to Angel’s face, “You’d be drinking alone if I wasn’t here. My involvement is at your request, and a way for me to pass the time.” 

Angel watched as that red-tipped claw of Alastor’s glove inched downwards, almost, but never quite touching the fur peeking over the top of his pajamas. 

“And it’s not like you need any help getting into trouble. Do you, Angel?”

 _Oh boy_ Angel knew he definitely hadn’t imagined the way his name sounded positively sinful coming from Alastor’s mouth. He could feel heat travelling through his body, not stopping at a blush. It was almost cruel that no matter the shit he went through, being in Hell had twisted Angel’s body to be far more responsive than it was when he was alive. It didn’t care how disgusting he still felt, it itched to be touched. Preferably by the demon teasing him. Angel knew if he didn’t get out of this situation quickly his pajama shorts would soon show how flimsy they really were. 

Despite that fear, despite knowing Alastor was toying with him, Angel's mouth was running before he could stop it. 

“Ha-Ya know, ya gotta point-” Angel swallowed hard on nothing, the last futile attempt to stop himself, “-But, well, _that’s_ real interesting.” 

Alastor’s full attention was on him now, eyebrows rising under his hairline, “Go on I’ll bite.”

Angel giggled behind his hand, dragging out the moment. Al was humouring him but he didn’t care. It felt nice. 

“You're implying, kinda, that you _would_ help me get into trouble.” Angel said, hiccuping once before adding, “If ya squint”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow”

“No, no listen-” Angel huffed, leaning on the bar for support, “You’re saying, if I didn’t get in trouble, ya know, like I do- But if I didn't! That’s when I'd need your help.” 

Alastor’s smile never wavered but his head tilted in confusion, eyes dilating as he tried to figure out what Angel was getting at. That or Al was fucking with him again. Either way, Angel was far too inebriated to let it go. 

“C’mon Al, isn’t that why you’re here? Seeing people be good and shit and then tearing them down, or whatever you said-” Angel was all but climbing on top of the bar at this point, so fixated on taking a chance, “So tell me, would you do that with me? Help me get into trouble? Be _naughty_?” 

Angel knew he should’ve toned down the innuendos the second they left his mouth. Alastor was gonna see right through him, or worse, shoot him down and bring the conversation to a screeching halt. But to his surprise, Alastor wasn’t jumping in with another putdown, nor was he moving to put any distance between them like he usually would. If anything, Al was acting like Angel’s drunken rant was something worth considering. 

"You're an amusing fellow," Alastor mused, topping up Angel’s mysteriously empty glass as he spoke, "But I doubt we’ll ever have the opportunity to cross that bridge, will we?” 

Now, there was a look Angel recognised. It only flickered across his face for a moment, but Angel caught it. Alastor was playing a game, daring Angel to continue. Despite how vulnerable Angel currently felt, there was no way he wasn’t gonna rise to the challenge. 

“That’s not a no.” 

“Hah! You’re right, It isn’t” There was another twitch of Alastor’s permanent smile, his eyes darkening as his voice lost all of its background crackle. “But it would take something extraordinary for me to consider such a salacious offer.” 

_Fuckkkk_. Angel forced himself to hold eye contact despite the fact he was screaming internally. He’d greatly underestimated just how smooth Alastor was when he wanted to be. Angel was going to have to take notes on how he kept his face so unreadable while his tone dripped with promises he wouldn't keep. Angel tried to keep a straight face, pushed down the fact he was seconds away from running up to his room to take care of his rapidly thickening cock, and took the bait. 

"Tell me how I could make it-" Angel started before shaking his head. 

That wasn’t good enough. Alastor was giving him an opportunity to prove he was worth his time and just asking wouldn’t cut it. 

"No, I’ll tell you! What if I was good, I mean real good, the kinda against-all-odds redemption good, a fucking _saint_ ” Angel paused for dramatic effect, pleased to see his audience looking more and more interested. “Then you’d just have to pull me back down, right? I could be within’ a chance of escaping hell, and you take that away.” 

Angel risked running one of his claws across the counter until he was almost touching the Radio demon’s hand, his own grin growing.

"I’m sure you’d love undoin’ all my hard work, right Al?"

There was a beat. Angel wasn’t sure if Alastor was going to laugh in his face or eviscerate him. The lights of the bar flickered out for a second and when they came back Alastor appeared in front of him, pulling Angel out of his seat. 

"Now, that’s more like it!” Alastor exclaimed, spinning Angel on the spot as he painted a picture to an invisible audience, “Our hero brought within tasting distance of redemption, having everything whisked away by the dashing villain everyone loves to hate!” 

Alastor flung Angel back on the barstool, spinning him around a few times with no regard for the Alcohol sloshing around in Angel’s stomach. When he was finished he cleared his throat, hand flicking up to straighten his hair. 

“I must say, I have greatly underestimated your abilities in generating entertainment, my friend. You’re quite wasted in those vulgar picture shows.”

Angel was torn between hurling and reminding Al that he was one of the top-rated performers on Voxtube. But everything died on his tongue when Alastor put his hands on the bar, trapping Angel in his seat. He was close enough to feel the tiniest exhale of breath, the almost touching grinding everything in Angel’s head to a screeching halt.

“But I warn you, Angel." Alastor practically purred, "I won't be content with bringing you back to this-" he looked Angel up and down, gaze so scolding Angel couldn’t help recoiling,"-by getting involved with me you risk plunging yourself down into the pits of despair with your only source of salvation at my behest."

Angel shuddered. Alastor sure had a flair for melodrama bordering on ridiculous, but Angel had never seen him so _animated_. Sure, he threw his all into impromptu musical numbers with Charlie and the others, but this was different. Angel could taste electricity in the air around them, more charged the longer Alator toyed with him. The dim light of the hotel lobby sharpened every one of the Radio Demon’s features, swinging back and forth between alluring and terrifying. If that wasn’t enough to intimidate him, Alastor’s antlers currently looked sharp enough to take his eye out. Every fiber in Angel’s being told him he was in danger, imploring him to leave while he still had the chance.

_But where was the fun in that?_

“So, uh, what does that involve?”

“I can’t give away all my secrets-” Alastor laughed, drawing back enough to give Angel breathing room but not quite out his personal space, “I have no interest in narcotics, if that eases your nerves. Things can get very violent in my world, but I suppose you’re used to that. and If we’re talking about sins more...erotic in nature.” he paused, eyes slitting as all the colour drained out of Angel’s face, “I dare say I know a few things that would even surprise someone of your experience.” 

"Holy shit, that a promise?" Angel blurted out, feeling his stomach drop when Alastor started to move away, “Sorry, sorry- I just- I never expected- I didn’t think you were into-” he paused, his brain unfortunately not supplying him with any witty euphemisms that wouldn’t cause an eye roll, “that stuff- not with me or, anyone really.”

“I’m not.” Alastor cut in, leaving no room for ambiguity in his tone, “Not in the way you’re implying, anyway. But that doesn’t mean I’m not _interested_ in bending my usual rules when you’ve come up with such an enticing proposition.” 

Angel’s quickly crossed his legs. He was getting more aroused every time Alastor said anything remotely flirtatious, and he was sure popping out wouldn’t go down well. He tried to act natural, but he knew nothing went unnoticed by the Radio demon. And he knew that Al knew he knew. By some saving grace, Alastor kept his mouth shut. He kept his eyes on Angel's face, waiting for him to break and back down.

And usually, he would. Under different circumstances, Angel would’ve made a joke or told Al he was full of it. But the things Alastor was offering, if serious… that was worth any amount of discomfort he currently felt. 

"Just so we’re clear, whatever weird stuff you're into I'm on board,” Angel added, wanting to make sure Alastor knew just how game he was. When Al’s eyes predictably glazed over, Angel dropped his tone, “No, I really mean it. I have an idea of what you’re into, outside the bedroom, I mean-” He flicked his eyes up at Alastor’s face, heat returning to his cheeks as his fantasies from the previous evening played in his mind, “I’m more than ok if ya wanna hurt me.”

A shiver visibly went through the Radio Demon’s body. 

_Bingo._

He'd certainly been right about that. To what extent, or what Angel planned to do with that information, was still up in the air. Still, it was nice to have the upper hand for once, if only for a second. 

“Well, you've certainly given me a lot to think about, _my dear_ " Alastor countered, knowing exactly what he was doing to Angel and enjoying every second of it, "A moment, if you would?"

Angel could only nod, willing his jaw not to drop to the floor. _This was really happening._ Angel picked up his drink, intending to steady his nerves but his throat felt like it had been sealed shut. He tried his best to look anywhere other than Alastor. It lasted all of five seconds. The Radio demon was facing away, humming to himself as he rocked on his heels. As if he was considering what colour he wanted the new wallpaper in the lobby to be, rather than their previous conversation. Angel shifted in his seat, the idea that this was all a joke making another appearance. Of course. It was so unbelievable, so fucking outta left-

"A month"

Angel blinked rapidly at the demon invading his personal space again, "Wha-?"

“Ah, Forgive me, I’ve jumped ahead-” Alastor beamed, grabbing Angel’s shoulders as crazed enthusiasm came off him in waves “You see, Angel, It’s not how good you can be, it’s how long you can sustain that state of denial." 

"So, you want me to be clean for a month?" Angel shrugged, weight lifted, "That's not that-"

"Ah, ah, ah" Alastor waved his finger from side to side like a parent would with a naughty child, "Not just clean. No, to purify yourself fully you'd have to live an entirely sin-free existence for the duration,” He laughed as the smile completely dropped from Angel’s face, "Abstaining from narcotics, alcohol, violence, foul language, and any of the pleasures your life revolves around."

"You serious?" Angel exclaimed, spilling the remainder of his drink as he slammed it down on the bar, "How in the fuck is that fair? Ya got some kinda golden-fucking-super dick under that suit? Shit! Ya gotta be fucking-"

"You don't have to spew such profanity, Angel" Alastor interrupted, disgust clouding his face, "you can simply refuse if you're not up to the challenge.” 

Angel raised his hands in the air in resignation. Alastor backed off for him to take control of his temper, and he’d take the opportunity to calm down. He should’ve known this was too good to be true, but on the other hand, this really was a bed of his own making. _He_ was the one who talked about being a saint, _he_ was the one who put redemption on the table. But Angel hadn’t expected that Alastor would actually take him up on his offer. Or care about every single one of his vices. He was ready to tell him to forget the whole thing, but he couldn’t. No matter how ludicrous the proposition was, the things Alastor was offering if he pulled it off…

Would it really be that hard? Angel could kick several habits to the curb and it would get Charlie off his back. And It wasn't like the alternative of his current situation was appealing. In any way shape or form. This was a way to get what he'd been craving, to strike the Radio demon off his list and get him out of his head for good. _But a whole month?_

One glance in Alastor’s direction to see him patiently waiting while drumming his claws on the counter made up Angel’s mind. 

“So it’s not so much that I couldn’t- because I could-” Angel said, thinking out loud while he figured out the logistics, “But you do know where I work right? I can’t afford to be outta action for that long-”

“Payment is not an issue-” Alastor countered, “Between Charlie’s expected increase in your fees with your willingness to contribute more around the hotel.” 

Any questions on that note were shot down with a stern look, 

“I’m more than willing to make up any varying difference from my private funds,” He dropped the radio static again, making sure Angel would lean towards him before adding, “I’m sure we can figure out interesting ways for you to reimburse me for anything owed.”

 _Holy shit, he had it all figured out_ Impressive, maybe, but Angel couldn’t shake the feeling that this kind of support would put him in Alastor’s debt. Something no demon should ever take lightly. Deep down in whatever was left of his soul, he knew that Al didn’t give two flying fucks about him. Alastor used everyone for his own entertainment, and this arrangement with Angel was no exception. Plus, there was sure to be some clause or ‘gotcha’ moment that Angel hadn’t figured out yet. 

But at that moment, with everything he’d fucking been through, with everything he craved dangled in front of him.

Fuck the consequences, Angel was doing this. 

He folded his arms, flashing Alastor his sweetest smile, “Two weeks.” 

“A month”

“ _Two weeks_ ”

Alastor smirked, “Two _months_ ”

Angel’s mouth flapped like a fish for several moments, “Three weeks.”

“Done.” 

Alastor extended his hand, turning off the lights and making it feel like all the air was sucked out of the room. He was completely serious. And that sobered Angel up like a bullet in the back. 

“Wait- I-” Angel panicked as Alastor swiftly retracted his hand, terrified he’d missed his chance “Hey I’m not saying no, I-I just wanna get a few things straight.”

The lobby brightened somewhat as Alastor tilted his head unnaturally, patience clearly being tested. But the steady tapping of his foot was easier for Angel to deal with over the whole world-shifting bullshit. 

“So listen,” Angel started, sounding far more confident than he felt, “If I manage these three weeks, you ain't just gonna fuck me once and it’s over. You gotta make it fair.”

The fact that Al’s grin actually widened was something Angel would never forget. 

“Mmmm I suppose so-” Alastor traced a finger around the rim of Angel’s glass, doing a decent act of pretending he hadn’t thought of that question, “Since you’re offering three weeks, I suppose it’s only fair I match that in return,” He held the finger up, silencing Angel before he could fall apart, “On the condition that _anything_ you do in those three weeks hinges on my approval.” 

_Three weeks_ Angel’s imagination was running wild with possibilities of all the fucked up things they could get up to in that time. He tried his best to restrain his giddiness, trying his best to think of anything else that would throw a huge spanner in the works. 

“Do I need to give up smoking?”

“I suppose that can be allowed.”

 _Sweet_ “What ‘bout dancing?”

“There’s nothing wrong with-” Alastor paused, realising what Angel actually meant, “I think it would be wise to avoid your place of employment where possible. Inciting sin in others, intentionally, would be against the rules,” as if sensing Angel’s disappointment he quickly added, “I understand perfecting your craft though, I’ll arrange any equipment you need to practice.”

Angel said a silent prayer of thanks that he wouldn’t lose one of the only things keeping him sane. Which in turn meant it was time to get another condition straightened out, "Can I have fun by myself?"

Alastor didn’t make any indication that he understood what Angel meant. It was only when Al's smile grew at the obscene hand gesture Angel made that he realised he’d walked right into that one. _Prick_. 

"Oh! No, no, no. I don't think so." Alastor’s eyes sharpened, "No little indulgences or _misbehaving_ , I'll know"

"Alright, alright!" Angel hid his face in his hands, momentarily too flustered to think straight, "But I ain't starting till tomorrow.” he added, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.“I gotta sleep this shit off and uh- take care of some things." 

It wasn’t subtle. If Al was even half as smart as he appeared then he’d be able to figure out that ‘things’ was code for ‘you keep saying dirty shit and I need to fuck myself stupid’. But just like he ignored Angel’s problem earlier, the Radio demon was far more concerned with the bigger picture. 

“Well then,” Alastor closed the distance between them again, hand extended, “Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope you like this instalment, especially with Al's entrance.  
> feedback/comments/anything appreciated :)


	3. Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! I'm still sick but I've got this chapter all done and dusted, hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Tags: Val being gross, references to masturbation/sex toys, references to drinking, Judgement over Lifestyle choices, Angel being thirsty af and....fluff? How'd that get in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _To tread this fantasy, openly, What have I done?_ -Over, Portishead.

_Whatever.  
That ass better be tighter than a virgin when ur done  
Daddy’s waiting. _

Angel pushed his phone away with a groan, burying his head back in the pillow.

 _Gross_. 

He'd made the mistake of passing out while waiting for Val’s last reply, and it was somehow worse than what he’d fallen asleep imagining. It had taken everything Angel had to get him to even get Val to consider his sudden hiatus. A bucket-load of lies and promises Angel wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep. Convincing the porn-overlord to give up one of his highest earners and personal playthings was laughable. Truly a fool's errand. 

_Or an erasure wish._

But Angel knew that sleaze far better than Val gave him credit for. He’d spun a web about an opportunity to fleece Charlie, making it sound as deplorable as possible. The derogatory language used to sweeten the lies turned his stomach. He knew Val could just as easily double-cross him. He’d repeat things Angel had said in Charlie’s ear to make sure that bridge was decimated. Despite her sickly-sweet moral high ground, Angel was starting to like Charlie. It had been enough to make him hesitate, before realising that budding attachment all the more reason to make it seem like he could care less. Princess or no, Val would use her against him. 

Val was sceptical from the word go. Not only over Angel telling the truth, but because he didn’t believe his ‘fuck-toy’ would be able to stay away from his slimy dick for that long. The fact that Angel would do that for free was a point he kept to himself. He’d played along, whining about how unfair it was that Val was too high-profile to risk being seen with. Then Angel mentioned he was being paid _triple_ the amount he’d sent Val the first time he’d ‘gone clean’.That had gone down well, very well, Valentino even seemed on board until Angel let slip he’d be gone for a few months. 

Angel had received a voice message full of expletives and insults so loud he had to hold the phone away from his ear just to decipher them. Val was losing his shit, but it was all part of Angel's plan. He soaked up the complaints, threw in some of his own, and then offered to talk to Charlie about trying a shorter time frame. His final play was coming to Val with some flexibility on the condition he went completely clean first. Angel pretended it was ridiculous, that there was no way he'd be able to do it with his sanity intact. So, of course, Valentino started coming around to the idea. Angel pretended he got Charlie to agree to 6 weeks total and waited for the reply with shaking hands. 

It worked. Val called him, ranting about sneaking out for side jobs and how to fake drug tests all while Angel was screaming on the inside. It had been easy, perhaps a little too easy. Deep down he’d always known how little Valentino actually cared about him, but having it confirmed was something else. He forced himself not to care and focus on the positives. Val was going to be off his back, literally and figuratively, for 6 whole weeks. A taste of freedom, no matter how short-lived, was something worth 

Angel fell asleep with a smile on his face. He promised to wire Val the money once a week, with any funds Alastor topped him up with passing as ‘extras’. He had it all planned out...but that was all before his alarm had gone off and realised how much he regretted his entire existence.

For one, he was ridiculously hungover. 

After the bizarre exchange with Alastor at the bar, he’d disappeared to his room before anyone else came down and ruined whatever parallel universe they’d stepped into. Sleep came relatively quickly after riding his fingers until he couldn’t see straight, that same encounter playing on repeat. Even in his dreams. 

He’d woken up in the late afternoon, took advantage of the fact it wasn’t technically tomorrow and kept drinking while he worked everything out. He may or may not have spent the majority of the day in bed for good measure. Partially because he wanted to avoid any lectures from the judgy twins, even if they had a point this time. And partially because tiring out his ridiculously high libido was a full-time job. And necessary if he actually wanted a chance at winning this thing. He’d proven he couldn’t fuck Alastor out his head, but several hours on his favourite toys sated some of that overwhelming desire. 

Lastly, avoiding Alastor was a hell of a lot easier to do if he didn’t see him at all. Angel wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his shit together around the Radio Demon for the next three weeks, but going anywhere near him while still intoxicated was not a good idea. It felt almost wrong to ignore Alastor after finally getting somewhere with him. To the point where Angel almost rolled out of bed just to poke his head out and say hi. He didn’t, thankfully. The deal was made, but they both still had a window to back out and Angel was petrified of saying something that would have Al snatching it all away. And he couldn’t cope with that, not now, so he settled on figuring out the other aspects of his life. 

One of the major stumbling blocks in Angel’s plan happened to be the adorable baby who was currently snoring next to him. Fat nuggets needed regular walks, no matter how much he resisted when there was the slightest bit of bad weather. Angel didn’t feel comfortable just running him around the hotel’s courtyard, it wasn’t enough. And It wasn’t nugget’s fault his Moma made weird deals to satisfy his perverted desires. Or that those deals meant he had to avoid going outside as much as possible if he didn’t wanna get propositioned or worse. So in a true demonstration of drunk logic Angel had come up with a plan to take Nuggets on his walks as early as possible, when no one else would be around. 

Unfortunately, sober Angel had to deal with the logistics of that plan.

_Better get it over with._

In one monumental push, Angel crawled out of the warmth of his duvet and shivered his way over to his dresser. He rifled through his pile of barely-there work outfits until he found something he wouldn’t freeze his balls off in. The dress was knit or something similar, warm and soft whilst still being stylish enough with its off-the-shoulder design. It wasn’t like Angel planned on seeing anybody, but his reputation was already going to take a huge hit in the coming weeks while being M.I.A. He couldn’t risk being spotted looking anything less than the hot commodity his fans expected.

Angel dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of long socks with one pair of hands whilst trying to wake Fat Nuggets up with the other. The fury that little pig had over being woken up so early was only marginally soothed when Angel jangled his lead. And popped him in his own matching jumper. With everything ready he picked up his phone, intending on sending Val a quick reply before thinking better of it. He didn’t want to piss him off by not replying, but Val didn’t need to know he was awake at this hour. Sure, that fucker could easily track him down with ease and figure out if Angel was able to get out of the hotel without being noticed. But Angel wasn’t giving him any pointers. 

He slid the phone under his pillow. If the worst happened, he could pretend it was forgotten in the rush to slip out unnoticed. Hopefully. 

Leaving the hotel at all was easier said than done. Angel was far too experienced in not making a sound, but Nuggs was another story. Still not on board with the whole ‘early morning walk’ thing, the pig pulled back on the lead and squealed his way down the stairs. Angel had to resign himself to giving into his pampered pet, sighing under his breath as he picked up-

“Angel!”

There was a second where all Angel saw was red. The next he hit the ground with a hard thump, the demon he’d collided with grinning down at him. 

A demon who’d literally appeared out of nowhere, Angel would like to add.

“Well, colour me surprised! Two early starts in the same week!” Alastor beamed, unphased by the fact he’d toppled Angel seconds ago, “It’s almost as if you’ve got a new purpose in life, unmet desires driving your every move-” He made a show of bowing down, extending a gloved hand, “You’ll have to let me know your secret, my dear.” 

Angel was rendered speechless. Overt flirtation aside, Angel took Alastor’s hand if only to save himself the effort. Still, he couldn’t help the little smile that pulled up the corners of his mouth despite the need to grumble about being bowled over. Al’s teasing was a lot less confusing now Angel knew his intentions. 

Well, sort of. He still had a lot of figuring out to do when it came to the Radio Demon. But that whole tangled mind-fuck could wait for a time where he wasn’t seeing stars. 

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that right?” Angel hissed, the words lacking in any real venom. He brushed himself down, remembering what he was doing and dropping his voice down to an exaggerated whisper, “And would it kill ya to try keeping it down for once?” 

“Why ever would I? It’s a beautiful morning!” Alastor replied, louder.

He turned his back to Angel and walked towards one of the windows in the lobby, twirling his microphone in the air. 

“The rather rambunctious row that happened in the street in the early has left a fresh lick of blood on the pavement that I can’t wait to see.” 

_Just why was he so fixated on this guy, again?_

“You have fun with that,” Angel murmured, judging himself for being far too into the mental image of Alastor covered in blood. 

His dick really was the root of all his problems.

“You don’t wish to join me?” Alastor’s tone was a mockery of sadness despite practically bouncing towards Angel with every step, “Though I guess the thrill of violence would be outside the parameters of our arrangement. More’s the pity.” 

Alastor stepped forward, pushing his microphone in Angel’s direction. His grin widened as he gently tilted Angel’s chin upwards with the end.

“Pray tell, what you _are_ doing up at this hour, Angel?”

Angel swallowed hard. _Was Alastor checking up on him?_ He was definitely on the more erratic side this morning, even for his standards. What Angel couldn’t decide was if Alastor was trying to catch him fucking up, or if was there to make sure he didn’t. Which, considering the stakes involved, was more than a little interesting.

“If you _must_ know, I’m taking Nuggs for a walk,” Angel said, gesturing at the pig who had trotted off to flop onto the nearest soft surface the moment his lead was let go, “And I’m less likely to uh, run into any trouble this early, y’know?” 

Angel cringed. He hadn’t meant to sound so pathetic, but the truth was all he could come up with. With his use of guns currently off the table, Angel wasn’t high enough up Hell’s pecking order to keep himself safe on intimidation alone. And he was far too familiar with how ‘handsy’ some of his fans were when given any opportunity. 

“I see,” Alastor’s microphone was gone and he was back in Angel’s personal space again, “I suppose, what with my stake in the matter, it’s rather rude of me not to oblige.”

“Uhh, come again?”

“By offering my protection, of course!” Alastor sprung into action, unlocking the bolts on the door with a few flicks of his wrist, “Accompanying you on your walk would be most suitable. In fact, it’s a fantastic idea! Blowing the cobwebs well away with a brisk stroll in the morning air.” He flung open the door, turning back to Angel “Shall we?”

Angel couldn’t think. Alastor’s view of hell was so different from his own, jarringly so. In a split second, he’d turned Angel’s whole strategy on its head. And the worst thing was, it _was_ a good idea. No one would think of touching him with the fucking Radio demon by his side. Angel knew he should be wary, but he was relieved. And in all honesty, he couldn’t see anything wrong in accepting. 

“Ok, sure. Thanks.” 

Angel stepped through the door, shivering when Alastor brushed his hand down the small of his back. Just like that, his attempts to suppress his desire for Alastor started to unravel.

In other words, he was fucked. 

By some saving grace, Angel managed to put one foot in front of the other with minimal difficulty as they made their way down the street, thankfully sidestepping the pool of blood Alastor had mentioned earlier. Said demon was suspiciously quiet, humming along to a soft tune crackling from the radio. It painted him in an entirely different light to the aura of chaos that usually hung around him, almost fooling Angel into thinking he was being _nice_.

But Alastor was dangerous. Very dangerous. The posters hanging to the noticeboard they passed were testament to that. Being seen walking around with him wasn’t something Angel should have taken so lightly. It wasn’t that Angel didn’t trust Al. Like he’d said on day one, if he wanted anyone dead, he wouldn’t hesitate. Having Alastor with him made the whole ordeal a lot less risky, sure, but Al wasn’t counted among the most powerful overlords in hell for no reason. Random acts of kindness didn’t mesh with his persona.

Not to mention how difficult it already was to control himself around Alastor. Starting day one by spending this much alone time with him wasn’t the brightest move. 

Angel spent a few blocks cursing himself before realising how pointless it was. What was he gonna do? Throw in the towel? He’d gotten himself into this mess, extremely willingly. He might as well enjoy whatever turns it took when he could. Alastor was right. It _was_ a beautiful morning, as far as the ones in Hell went. And if the Radio demon wanted to spend time with him, then who was he to argue. Even Nuggets was trotting away happily, previous tantrum forgotten in favour of investigating their new companion’s shoes. 

Angel was about ready to forget his reservations until his fur bristled at the sight of other demons. 

Angel didn’t recognise any faces, but the shocked gasps followed by malicious laughter told him enough. He didn’t know them, but they sure knew who he was. And what he did. Judgement wasn’t new to Angel. Even in Hell, being a pornstar carried a lot of baggage. Usually, he wouldn’t give two flying fucks what anyone thought about him. But the laughter and broken insults cut through Angel’s usual barriers like knives. He could blame it on the hangover or residue vulnerability from his last dealing with Val, but that wasn’t the whole truth. He didn’t want Alastor thinking the same. 

“Hey- uh, Al?”

Alastor was seemingly oblivious, “Yes?”

“Do you really think this is such a good idea?” Angel asked, face reddening when one of the demons wolf-whistled in their direction, “-To be seen with me, I mean-” when Alastor didn’t immediately respond, he started babbling, “I know ya got your reputation and shit, I appreciate what your doing, but I can just-” 

“-Why would a being with you tarnish my reputation, my dear?"

"You know what I am-" Angel snapped, immediately regretting it, "It’s just-people think I'm only good for one thing. And if you’re with me-" 

He raised his eyebrows in lieu of finishing his sentence, not wanting to give their audience any more fuel to their fire. 

Alastor didn’t have the same reservations. was having none of that.

"Are you not allowed acquaintances outside your profession? What Nonsense!" He practically sang, linking one of Angel’s lower arms with his own, “We reside in the same hotel, there’s nothing untoward. Besides-” 

There was a sharp crack and then Alastor’s low voice was somehow right next to his ear. 

“My adversaries know I don’t take well to unkind gossip.”

The pentagram fucking _flickered_. When Angel dragged his eyes from the sky the other demons were gone. Fleeing in terror...or otherwise removed. 

"So, uh," Angel croaked around the sudden, immovable, lump in his throat, "Where d’ya wanna go, Al?"

"I hadn't planned anything other than enjoying your company," Alastor tightened his grip, clearly enjoying making Angel squirm, "but I suppose the park is close by if you and your charge are agreeable?"

Angel’s fur bristled again, for entirely different reasons "S-sure."

Hell's version of a park was laughable. The grass was nothing more than tufts of scorched hay dotted around a sea of black dirt. The benches that weren’t broken were covered with gaudy graffiti, some of which Angel had seen far too closely when being bent over the rough slats. To top it off, the lake in the center was hardly picturesque with all the trash dumped within its inky-black waters. 

Nuggs didn’t have Angel’s standards, thankfully. The pig squealed in delight when he was let off his lead, bounding around and sticking his snout in all kinds of questionable piles. Angel made a mental note to make sure he got a thorough cleaning in the bath later before Alastor clouded his thoughts. The Radio demon was humming softly as they walked, perfectly content with Angel’s arm still linked with his own. Angel was thankful the park was empty, but he couldn’t help ponder over how they must look from a distance. Two demons, taking a stroll around a park in each other’s arms. It was practically _romantic_. 

The truth was always far more complicated. Angel had been painfully reminded of that when he’d absentmindedly brushed their fingers together. The static coming from the radio was as clear as day. Alastor’s proximity was entirely on his own terms. It was all part of his game, a way to come out on top of their little wager. Which was fine, though it made Angel’s mind race with how things were going to go down between them if he won. And that was the other reason their closeness wasn’t what it seemed. Angel wasn’t an expert, but he was pretty sure lovebirds didn’t make contracts out of barely hidden lust, spite, and...

Well, Angel wasn’t entirely sure what Alastor wanted. 

But he did know that the three-week expiry date meant romance wasn’t part of it.

Angel was so lost in thought that he hadn’t realised just how quiet it was until it became deafening. Apart from the soothing melody on the radio that phased in and out, Alastor was silent. Angel knew he could be with all the times he’d snuck up on him, but when Al got talking he usually never stopped. The fact they’d been walking for at least ten minutes without saying a single word frightened Angel more than any of his usual creepy bullshit. 

"I never thought I'd be asking this, but-" Angel started, laughing nervously, "-Is there a reason you ain't talking?" 

"No."

Alastor paused long enough to make it seem like he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, making Angel far too aware of his own shallow breathing. 

"I’m a creature of habit, and my walks are usually a solo affair.” Something incomprehensible passed over his eyes before his usual chipper self sprung back into action, “-But I'm not averse to idle chatter. What's on your mind?"

"Do ya come here often?" Angel tried, and failed, to make it not sound like a pick-up line before clarifying, "On walks, I mean" 

"Sometimes. We're quite fortunately placed for a variety of excursions. And variety is the spice of life, or so they say-” Alastor’s eyes flicked to his, grin widening, "And you?"

"I don't usually have the time, apart from walking Nugs." Angel sucked on his bottom lip, "There are a few blocks that ain't too bad near the studio, but there's this aquarium near Cherri’s. It’s rundown, but it’s got the most amazing tunnel where you’re surrounded by water on all sides.” He smiled, genuinely this time, “Kinda makes you forget you’re in Hell for a moment.”

"I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of Cherri’s acquaintance," Alastor mused, "A friend of yours?"

Angel had expected Alastor to laugh at him. To tell him in no uncertain terms just how foolish his fantasies were. He was happy to be wrong for once. 

"The best!" Angel blurted out before reigning himself in a little, "You'd like her, She's all kinds of crazy. You won't believe the shit she caused in the last turf war." 

"That does sound rather thrilling, "Alastor chuckled to himself, squeezing Angel’s arm to bring him closer, "Do tell me more." 

So Angel did.

He filled Al in on all of his and Cherri’s greatest hits. Drunken brawls, ‘accidental’ explosions, the time they robbed a drug store with nothing but fake guns after they’d tried to pass off dried herbs as weed. Or the time they shut down Lu Lu world for a few days when Cherri hacked into the mainframe and got every screen in the joint showing Lucifer's nudes. And not the ones he published to his voxtagram account, but the ones that showed the Prince in a much more submissive light. Alastor was genuinely amused at that little tidbit, the laugh track only just concealing his own laughter. 

They kept walking around the tiny park, time not a factor even with daylight slowly brightening the sky. Angel didn’t mean to keep talking, but Alastor prompted him to continue whenever there were any gaps. Before he could think better of it, other things started slipping in. When he met Cherri, how long he’d been in hell. What it was like being a twin. Personal stuff, things Al was sure to use against him at some point. All his years under Val’s thumb had taught him nothing, apparently. But it felt different when the information was giving up willingly. And when the other party wasn’t shoving their hands up Angel’s skirt the moment he tried to talk about himself. 

Not that Angel would’ve minded that from Al...but a deal was a deal. 

The fact that Alastor had kept hold of his arm the entire time was mind-boggling. Almost as much as Angel missing the weight when he bent down to hook Nuggets back on his lead. That was one happy, and filthy, little pig. And Nuggets was far more aware than he let on. He was all over Al, arching against his leg with content little chirps. The only consequence? A bemused smile. Like that was fucking fair. Angel ignored his jealousy and threw himself into another story, this one being of one of his solo jaunts that had a far more violent ending. 

It was obvious he was trying to impress Alastor, but he didn’t care. Especially when Al was hanging on his every word. 

"-and I said, lemme speak a language you might understand better!” Angel finished with a series of finger guns and a cocky grin. 

"My goodness, quite the tale indeed.”Alastor used his leverage on Angel’s arm to turn him until they were face to face, “Thank you for _indulging_ my curiosity.”

Angel’s eyes automatically lidded. Any other demon would be pushing him over the nearest dumpster with that sultry tone. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted it this bad though. Instead, he was left desperately trying not to get hard. Or at least concealing it enough so Alastor wouldn’t notice. He was so distracted that he hadn’t realised why Alastor had stopped until he noticed they were next to a very familiar stained glass door.

“I doubt you need my accompaniment from here,” Alastor teased, lingering far too long on Angel’s arm before finally letting it go, “I took the liberty of volunteering your services in the kitchen today. Miss Magne has an appointment with her father, and I believe she means to present him with baked goods. Though how you’ll keep a straight face in his presence after that story is beyond my abilities. Good luck.” 

“Hah, thanks,” Angel replied, heart pounding. 

It had been so long since anyone actually _listened_ to one of his stories that he’d forgotten what it could feel like. 

Alastor smiled in return, arms folding behind his back while Angel fought himself not to pout about it. 

“Tomorrow?”

“To-?Oh yeah, I’d-” Angel stopped himself, ”I’m sure Nuggs would appreciate it.”

He managed to hide his real reaction until Alastor left with a casual wave, disappearing around the corner. A smile grew over Angel’s face, refusing to stop even as he covered his mouth with his hand. He had been utterly convinced the walk was a one-time thing, and once Alastor was convinced he wasn’t trying to sneak around he’d be left to his own devices. Just the idea of this becoming a regular thing was too much for Angel to cope with. He knew it meant jack shit, but it wasn’t like he was gonna get any action in the next few weeks. So, why couldn’t he pretend like his obsession was more innocent? He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made him feel-

“What’s got you so damn happy?” Vaggie cut through his daydream, eyes narrowing as she looked Angel up and down, “You do remember Charlie’s gonna be doing routine tests, right? You’re not pulling the wool over our eyes this time.” 

Angel’s smile dropped. The fucking _audacity._

“I knew you gals were nasty, but medical kinks? Damn.” Angel winked, not missing a beat, “I’m clean as a whistle, toots, just gonna pop nugs down then I’m all yours.”

“Urgh. You better be-” She glowered for a moment longer, “And don’t mess around! Charlie’s already losing her shit over getting the timings right, we need the extra hands.” 

Angel rolled his eyes, blowing Vaggie a kiss as he sauntered up the stairs just to add insult to injury. Angel’s initial animosity to her was fading, but she was too fun to rile up. In all honesty, he was kinda looking forward to an afternoon of baking. He hadn’t flexed his skills in ages, and it was always worth the time if he got to sample the results. 

His room was in the same state of disarray as he left it, much to Angel’s continued annoyance. But he quickly squashed any niggling guilt by convincing himself he was letting it get that way on purpose. He was bound to need plenty of distractions in the coming weeks, cleaning his room would be a secret weapon for when things got really bad. He removed Nugget’s jumper and topped up his food bowl, flopping down on his bed for five minutes.

When he could avoid it no longer, he retrieved his phone from under the pillows. 

There were a few new notifications, but thankfully no missed calls. First things first, Angel chewed on his lip as he came up with a suitable reply to Val. He added a few extra kisses to add to the illusion, hitting send as quickly as possible. He had a few likes on a picture from a few days ago, and messages on his professional account he would have to pretend he didn’t see until he could come up with a way to put them off while still keeping them keen. His eyes lit up when he spied a message from Cherri, unbelievably giddy as he typed out his reply.

_U have NO idea the shit I been throu babes. When can u come over?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the update! Kudos/comments greatly appreciated :)


	4. Fear & Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was gonna publish this in real time, but that's just mean.
> 
> Tags: Chaggie (background) Drinking, Smoking (veering into a kink for it, slightly!) Characters being aroused by violence, Teasing, using your eldritch powers inappropriately, dubcon touching, (consent would be given but it's not explicitly stated), public play.
> 
> I'm a sap and drew a scene from this chapter you can see [here](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon/status/1362776131410268166)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear, I wanna stop it but like it too much to let it stop here._ \- Fear & Delight-The Correspondents

Angel was dripping wet. Towel forgotten somewhere on the floor. Curled into a ball next to the bed.

All while trying not to fucking _scream_.

He’d put so many things in place. Worked so hard at keeping his cool, resisting every temptation that came his way.

But he’d always known this moment would come. 

Angel just didn’t expect a _fucking note_ to be the thing that broke him. 

He had only had six days left on his side of the wager, but he didn’t know if he could last another minute.

He couldn’t ignore it. Not when the note stuck out like a sore thumb in his otherwise spotless room. At the time he’d been struggling with something Alastor said that was borderline _obscene_. He was kicking himself for not holding out longer now. 

He couldn’t do this- he _couldn’t_ -

Angel’s eyes opened without his permission, dumb-ass brain overriding common sense to read the note again. 

Like the words weren’t already seared into his brain. 

_A thousand apologies for the mess. I endeavor to have your garment returned shortly. I hope this will suffice in the interim._

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be. Angel knew exactly whose swirled handwriting was etched into the parchment page. Where the fuck Alastor found parchment in this place he’d never know but that was neither here nor there. What was laying underneath the note was what Angel was really freaking out about.

A dress. 

Angel didn’t need to try it on to know he was already in love. He’d jumped in the shower as soon as he got home, cleaning himself thoroughly before the blood stuck to his fur for good. He’d come back to his room to find his soiled clothes gone and a mysterious parcel in its place. Unwrapping crepe paper was confusing until he’d felt the slippery silk slide between his claws. He dropped it, the full length of the dress splaying out on the bed before Angel’s eyes.

...And he hadn’t touched it since. 

_How could he?_. Things had been going well between them. Exceptionally well if Angel was being completely honest. But this was too much. It wasn’t even Al’s fault Angel’s clothes were bloodstained in the first place. 

Well, in a direct sense it was. 

But Angel was the catalyst. 

He grabbed the partially discarded towel and pulled it back over himself, trying to get his breathing under control. He just needed a few minutes to calm down, then everything would make more sense. It _had_ to. Angel couldn’t stay caught between wanting to scream and running down the hallway to beg Alastor to call the whole thing off early forever.

_In. Out._

Angel had learnt a fair few things about himself in the last few weeks, mood regulation being an essential part. He also discovered that being sober all the time was fucking boring and the life of a shut-in didn’t suit him in the slightest. He’d also found out that the whole no-sex thing was worse than everything else put together. Angel’s hands were testament to that. He had several bite marks, one of which was currently bleeding, to cope with the rising sexual tension. His venom had its uses; the sting enough to shake him back to reality even if the pain did little to deter his libido. And since Al hadn’t said anything, he was pretty sure it wasn’t against the rules. Because that fucker noticed _everything._

It was tough, but Angel had slipped into a routine. Walk with Alastor in the morning, do whatever Charlie needed for the day, relax in the evening, sleep, repeat. He’d catch up with Cherri occasionally, sidestepping any plans to meet up for now. Unfortunately, messaging Val was a more frequent occurrence. The vulgar exchanges were enough to make even Angel wince, but they were necessary. As was sending him money. Charlie had kept up her end of the bargain, but accepting the extra fund from Alastor himself was really fucking weird. Angel wasn’t a stranger to having shit paid for by fans, even having a few sugar daddies over the years. Without giving anything in return it felt wrong somehow.

A few weeks sober and Angel was apparently growing a moral compass. 

With everything stripped away, it would be easy to let monotony take hold. Charlie kept him entertained enough. She’d come up with all sorts of things for him to do, acting like Angel had all sorts of skills if he put his mind to it. And the makeshift dance studio was a great distraction. It had miraculously manifested last week in the empty room across the hall from Alastor’s own. Angel had to laugh at the lack of subtlety, but it wasn’t like he was complaining. With the amount of work he was putting in he’d managed to master a few moves on the pole that had evaded him for years.

And then there was his new nightly routine too. Initially, he’d avoided the bar in the lobby like the plague. But since Charlie had seen how hard he was trying, she’d also made everyone else swear they’d do their best to help. Which they did, including Alastor, wearing a sadistic grin the entire time. It also meant Husk had cut him off officially. He was even being pretty cool about it. Angel could spend his nights at the bar without temptation instead of sulking in his room. Or he thought he could. That was before he found out who else liked to keep Husk company.

Unlike how prompt he was for their morning walks, Alastor showed up at varying times at night. He popped out of nowhere, like usual. But Angel was starting to get used to blinking and then finding Alastor had manifested in the seat next to him. Husk would usually be three sheets to the wind when he showed up. Or passed out completely. But that was probably for the best. Unlike the walks where Angel took the lead in the conversation, the nights made Alastor a lot more talkative. His stories were still surface level at best, but even Mr. Cool-and-Collected slipped at times. 

The mental image of the Radio Demon being able to knit wasn’t leaving Angel alone anytime soon. 

_And his jokes!_ Alastor had an absolutely abysmal sense of humor, but the way he delivered them always caught Angel out eventually. And once Angel started laughing, Alastor was relentless, hitting him with pun after pun until tears streamed down his face. One night he’d laughed so hard he’d managed to wake Husk from his drunken stupor. There apparently were some curse words even Angel didn’t know. But it wasn’t always rowdy either. After a particularly long day, he was lulled to sleep by Alastor’s radio playing something strangely similar to a lullaby from his distant memories. Angel panicked when he woke up curled on the sofa, running back to his room before anyone thought he’d been out partying all night.

It was just a pity he hadn’t got a good look at the blanket that had been draped over him. 

But that was worlds apart from what happened today. To start, Angel’s whole routine was off. Charlie needed his help earlier today than usual, which was fine, but the idea of skipping their usual walk was demoralizing. When he asked to rearrange Alastor hadn’t minded, on the condition he’d meet Angel at the park instead. It should have been simple. Angel wasn’t some coward, afraid to go anywhere without his usual protection. So what if he walked a little faster, or that he’d audibly sighed when a familiar weight hooked around his arm. It didn’t mean Angel couldn’t look out for himself.

That notion was challenged all too soon when someone had approached unnoticed and forcibly grabbed him from behind. Angel knew the creep as soon as he opened his mouth; a long-time fan that never quite got the message that he wasn’t into him unless there was money involved. He tried and failed to push him off, sweating when calloused hands dug into his fur. He reached for his gun, panicking when it wasn’t there. But just as soon as it started, it was over. Alastor had intervened with a single swipe to the guy's throat, covering them both in arterial spray as he collapsed on the floor.

Angel’s first mistake had been looking at Alastor's face when the creep collapsed. The stories of Alastor’s carnage were nothing compared to seeing it up close. He was practically glowing with excitement, but when those sharp eyes had snapped to Angel everything else in his mind went blank.

Angel had screamed internally all the way home. Half hard and all the way mad by the time he stepped under the ice-cold spray of the shower. He was meant to be into Alastor _despite_ all the insanity and bloodthirst. _Not fucking because of it!_ He’d shoved his fist in his mouth, shouting around it while futilely rocking against nothing. He needed everything he was denying himself and more, and even then it wouldn’t be enough. 

It took Angel half an hour to calm down, only emerging from the shower when he remembered the damn weekly game night. 

Everything was undone in seconds when he’d discovered the dress. 

Even now couldn’t figure out why Alastor had done this. Let alone _how_. They’d been apart for less than an hour, and it wasn’t like the dress was something anyone would just have laying around. He couldn’t resist looking again, peeking over the edge of the bed like he was worried about scaring it away. It really was stunning. The soft shade of champagne oozed class and style. Simple yet timeless. 

Not to mention how perfectly it would complement his complexion. 

Angel bit his lip. He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t wait to feel the silk slide against his fur. In that dress, he’d feel like a million bucks. He’d be the center of attention and not because he was making a scene or flashing the goods. He wanted heads to turn, jaws to drop, envious chatter to fill any room he walked into. 

_To have one particular pair of eyes following his every move._

Even if he wasn’t going to wear it, trying it on wasn’t gonna hurt nobody. Angel eyed the dress as he stood on shaking feet, toweling himself off properly to make sure it wouldn’t stick to wet fur. He tried not to notice how much his body was still crying out to be touched in favour of focusing on the incredible constellation prize. He went to grab the dress before it dawned on him that he was forgetting a few things. Like underwear. But with a dress as thin as that, Angel didn’t own anything that wouldn’t show through. Any work underwear he had was either bulky with beading or tacky. Which just wasn’t acceptable. Going commando wouldn’t matter if he was just trying it on, right?

The dress was heavier than Angel expected until he pulled it over his head. It slid down his body, softer than a feather fluttering to the ground. The halter strap was a nice touch that framed his chest nicely and the back was low enough that his second pair of arms weren’t restricted. But it wasn’t as fitted as he was used to. There was so much material that Angel’s heart began to sink with thoughts of his thin frame being swamped in it. That was until he took a step towards one of his light-up mirrors and discovered the slit all the way up to his thigh. 

Oh, Al knew him alright. 

Angel preened in front of the mirror, besotted with his reflection. He looked like an illustration on the cover of the vogue magazines he hid under his bed as a confused teenager. Only _better_. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt something so soft, living or dead. Sure, Val dressed him up at work but that was different. Everything Angel owned was replaceable, his wardrobe being prone to rips when it was being shoved down or torn clean off him. The idea of this dress receiving the same treatment was horrifying. 

That was until Angel thought about the demon who’d procured it doing the tearing. 

And now he had to spend an entire night with the fucker. In a room full of people no less.

Angel needed a smoke. Several, in fact. 

Access to the hotel’s roof was usually a cinch. There was a ladder a quick shimmy across from Angel’s window, something that required little effort with all the extra limbs. Not something he was gonna attempt in a floor-length dress though. He could smoke in his room, but he needed the air. No matter how smog-filled. Angel spent a few moments reapplying any makeup washed off by the shower and treated himself to a spray of his favourite perfume. He was sure to get an earful about being overdressed for the hotel lobby either way, so he may as well push the boat out fully. He slipped on his dainties shoes and slipped down the hall to the stairwell, thankfully unnoticed. 

The night was warmer than Angel had expected wearing something so light. His hands didn’t get the memo though, still shaky as he fiddled with the lighter. That first drag was heavenly, nicotine giving him an anchor to cling to amidst all the chaos. It wasn’t the first time he thanked his usually defunct guardian angel over Al’s stance on smoking, and it wouldn’t be the last. Not when the next few days were likely to be the longest yet.

Angel took a deep smoky breath, exhaling as he leant over the railing. The skyline from his vantage point was captivating, especially if he angled himself so his place of work was conveniently out of view. He wondered how many of the thousands of sinners in pentagram city were doing the same as him, how many of the lights represented another melancholy soul. If Angel let all his eyes blur out of focus he could pretend those pinpricks of light were like twinkling stars. 

A soft buzzing sound and the feeling of all his hair standing on end told Angel he was no longer alone. It was kinda funny how good he was getting at identifying the signs of Alastor being close. Even if it only saved him from a handful of jumpscares. Angel took another drag of his cigarette before spinning dramatically, posing with the slow exhale like he was a film noir starlet. With the way Alastor’s eyes lit up the shadows, Angel almost felt like he could tick off that bygone wish. 

It was just a pity the leading man was completely immune to his charms. 

“It suits you.” Alastor finally said, tone lacking the usual tinny quality of the radio.

Angel was ecstatic. He’d have to rethink that notion if Alastor was already using his real voice. 

“Don’t you know it!” Angel peacocked, spinning to make the dress flare out in the wind, “And thanks, you really didn’t have t’ do this.’”

He grinned at Alastor, any notion of hiding his glee momentarily overshadowed with genuine emotion. His high ended when he became painfully self-conscious at the sudden vulnerability. His hand went to his neck to nervously fiddle with a twisted strap, only to be overcome with the feeling of being watched. Alastor had pinpoint focus on his throat, even when Angel dared to glance in his direction. Angel’s mind was racing, but he wasn’t on steady enough ground to call him out for it. He pretended not to notice, pulling another cigarette out of the packet.

Charged silence hung thick in the air until Angel broke and asked the first thing that came to mind, “You want one?

"Ah, Thank you. I shouldn’t. Plays havoc on the vocals you see." Alastor replied, predictably.

Him stepping forward wasn’t. Neither was the blink and you’ll miss it flick of the wrist as he snatched a smoke from the open packet. 

"I won’t tell if you won’t."

Angel was left opening and closing his mouth like a marionette as the Radio Demon took the cigarette between his teeth. He leant forward to light it against the one in which Angel surprisingly still had between his fingers. Angel was kicking himself for not having the balls to lean forward and take the filter back to his own mouth while Al slowly inhaled to light it. 

He also wanted to ask Al if he knew what hotboxing was but thankfully bit his tongue. 

The heavy exhale Alastor gave after his first drag was telling. The demon so fixated on inciting sin in others denying himself such a simple pleasure. Angel wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information, or what to with the feeling he was being let in on a secret. He wondered how many little secrets he’d be privy to if their arrangement wasn’t temporary. It honestly made him melancholic knowing even if he managed to succeed, this was going to end. And they’d go back to being nothing more than acquaintances. 

He lost that thought when Alastor exhaled, grin growing as billowing smoke framed his face. 

Suspiciously like he was doing some showboating of his own. 

It was at that moment that Angel remembered he’d neglected to put on any underwear. He really was his own worst enemy. 

Alastor finished the cigarette far too soon, flicking it off the railing before offering Angel his hand.

“Shall we?” 

Tellingly, Angel didn’t hesitate for a single second. 

_Satan help him._ Tonight was gonna be the longest one yet. 

Alastor didn’t let go of his hand immediately, even as they walked through the halls. The feeling of soft leather against his claws would vanish the moment they saw any of the other hotel residents, but Angel didn’t mind. They hadn’t vocalised keeping their little arrangement a secret, but there wasn’t any need. They were both on the same page when it came to discretion. At best the others wouldn’t understand, at worst they’d try to intervene. Especially Charlie. She was ecstatic over how well Angel was doing, literally singing his praises at every opportunity. He didn’t want to think about the look on her face if she found out about his deplorable motives. 

It was better this way. Being someone’s dirty little secret wasn’t exactly new to Angel. The difference was he actually wanted it this time. 

Besides, it was easy to push down any misplaced feeling of disappointment when he walked into the lobby. Both Charlie and Niffty jumped out of their seats to admire the gown, giving Angel more excuses to show off. Even Vaggie was impressed, saving her more reserved compliments for when Angel took his seat at the table. The only one who was harder to read was Husk. He’d initially whistled and given Angel a thumbs up when he walked in, but his exaggerated brow had furrowed a few seconds later. Angel knew why it made him nervous, especially when Husk’s eyes widened when Alastor snuck in behind him and claimed the seat next to Angel.

“Yeah, yeah, settle down,” Husk huffed, something else on the tip of his tongue before he shook his head and took another swig of his drink, “You got your deck?” 

The question was directed at Angel, who was very confused to find that everyone, even Alastor, had a set of cards in front of them. Poker was strictly forbidden after last time, but card games were surprisingly still on the table. Angel wondered how long that was going to last. 

Husk took his sheepish expression as a no, sighing loudly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I told you we were playing pounce tonight” 

“In my day we called it _racing demon_ ” Alastor added, complete with canned laughter. 

“Yeah, well you ain't dealin’, are ya?” He reluctantly reached within his wings and pulled out another deck, slapping it on the table in front of Angel, “You all remember the rules, right?”

“I think so-” Charlie started, inching her way into Vaggie’s seat to whisper, “You’ll help me, right?”

Vaggie’s smile was playful as she flicked the end of her girlfriend’s nose, “Of course, hon”

“Cut it out,” Husk snapped, pointing at the giggling couple, “I swear, we need to have a no flirting in communal spaces rule or something. Getting on my last nerve.” 

Angel was about to add to the conversation when the warmth of Alastor’s body pressing into his side cut him off. Acting like there was nothing more natural than fully invading Angel’s personal space. Husk’s rule would work in his favour at this point, but Angel couldn’t think of anything he wanted less. 

The first round went by without incident. They had to play it at a snail’s pace with Husk having to repeat the rules several times. Niffty eventually won the round after double-checking she’d done everything by the book with the grumbling bartender. Not that his anger extended to the small cyclops, if anything Husk had a noticeable soft spot where she was concerned. Everyone mumbled their congratulations as they reset their decks, clearing up any outstanding confusion over how different scenarios were played. 

Round two was where the fun began.

Collectively they were nothing if not competitive. The pace picked up, with more than a few excited shrieks whenever anyone placed a series of cards on the center stacks. Angel was already getting carried away, enjoying the short relapse from frustrated limbo. He swept up in the excitement the more his pile shrank, victory so close he could taste it. It was why he almost screeched when he felt something running up the slit of his dress. 

Angel’s eyes shot to the demon by his side, shocked to find both of Alastor’s hands on the table in plain view. He quickly scanned everyone else, perplexed to find nothing amiss. He was about to ask what the fuck was going on when Charlie’s voice brought him back to reality. 

"I win!” 

“That’s-!” Angel stopped himself, not sure how he could explain his sudden lapse without sounding like a sore loser, “-beginners luck again, right princess?” 

Angel laughed off the concerned stares and ran his hands through his hair. He had to have imagined it. A combination of catching the fingertips of his own lower hands and an oversensitive body. That had to be it.  
“Don’t pout, Angel” Alastor chided, purposefully dropping his tone. _Asshole_ , “Your luck may turn with the next round!” 

He winked, blatantly cataloguing the undignified squeak Angel didn’t manage to hide for later use. _Double Asshole_.

Angel huffed and rearranged his cards. Alastor was clean, but he just _had_ to take advantage of any opportunity to tease him. And not fuck off out Angel's personal space. 

Angel tried to forget his lapse and focus on the game again, getting back into the swing with a few decent hands. Angel reached over the table to place a card on the furthest ace only to drop it when _something_ took the opportunity to graze his stomach dangerously close to his pelvis. Angel sat back down with a thump, immediately clamping his legs together to physically stop himself from getting hard at the sudden stimulation. A single bead of sweat trickled down his hairline when he felt Alastor stifling a laugh next to him. 

He fucking knew it!

Angel wasn’t exactly sure what or how, but this had Alastor’s name all over it. Some unseen force or magical bullshit doing the Radio Demon’s bidding. Angel’s heart was racing. Playing dirty wasn’t against their rules. He was kicking himself for not considering Alastor would use everything in his power to win. But to think he’d try pulling anything like this was just incomprehensible. 

And it couldn’t go on. Not if Angel didn’t want to make a huge show of himself in front of the whole hotel. He should leave while he still had the chance. He needed to-

The less rational side of him overrode that notion. Angel was already back playing the game before he realised what he was doing. He knew he was being an idiot, but he craved contact so badly it was worth risking it all. He was soon rewarded with something more concrete; a hand placed on the top of his thigh. Angel rocked in his seat, biology betraying as he thickened between his legs. He was trapped now, the lack of underwear and thin dress offering nothing to conceal his shame. Alastor placed the last of his cards down with a grin, winking at Angel again for good measure.

_Son of a-_

“My my, I believe I win,” Alastor said with another chuckle, tongue darting swiftly across his sharp teeth, “Victory is _sweet._ ”

“Listen here you fucking-”

“Angel!” Charlie interrupted, smiling sweetly despite the sharp warning in his tone, “Alastor won fair and square, don’t be mean.” 

_Like fuck he did._ Angel was seconds away from spilling every last one of the Radio Demon’s secrets. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t prove a fucking thing. He shuffled his deck with a series of explicit grumbles under his breath. 

The attention didn’t escalate any further over the next few rounds, but it was enough to have Angel teetering on the brink of madness. A squeeze on his leg, a slippery whisper against one set of claws. He even felt a light touch skim across the small of his back, A bold move without the table cloth to hide underneath. But the rest of the table was so engrossed in the game they didn’t notice. There wasn’t so much as a glance from Husk to reign Alastor in. 

_If he was even playing with him in the first place._

Every time Angel chanced a glance Alastor was ignoring him. Disinterested to the point Angel started believing he was imagining everything. Sure, Alastor was touching him, and some bullshit magic tricks were being pulled when he wasn’t using his hands. But was it really different from anything he’d done before? Angel flip-flopped between it being accidental and definitely on purpose until he lost count. 

However, whenever he looked away pinpricks seared his skin. Alastor was still watching him, and Angel was a puddle under the intensity. He’d never really seen the point of edging before today, chasing any pleasure he could get as often as he could. But if this was a taste, imaginary or not, then he was completely converted. He was so sensitive, the softness of the dress made everything ten times worse as it slid against his fur. So similar to a lover’s caress. And with Alastor touching him at every opportunity, was that so far from the truth? 

All the feelings he’d repressed in the shower came flooding back, whirring through his mind until he was him painfully hard. It was so embarrassing, in public for fucks sake! His stupid resolve was crumbling for the guy who’d given him the tiniest scraps of attention. And he wanted more. What Angel wouldn’t give for Alastor’s hand to drift a little higher, or for him to use his magic properly and show him a good time. 

Just the thought that had Angel itching to drop his hands beneath the table. It would be so easy with how worked he was, the release he’d been craving so close he could taste it. But silk wasn’t a forgiving material. He likely already had a sizable wet spot from the slick his cock was already leaking, one he’d have to hide the second he could think of anything else but Alastor’s hand back on his thigh. Angel's chest was heaving, fluffy mounds catching on the silk with every sharp intake of breath. It was sweet. Incredible. _Torture._

Alastor's body pressing into his own was what pushed the final button, forcing him to hunch forward to hide his glowing marks. For a second Angel was convinced he’d be discovered but no one else noticed. He vaguely registered the cheers when Charlie won over the thumping in his head. He needed to leave. He was sure he could stand and turn in one swift movement and then bolt up the stairs. It would be suspicious, as would the second shower, but it was a risk Angel had to take. 

“I think I’m gonna-” 

“Calling it quits already, Angel?” Alastor jumped in, hand moving over Angel’s under the table and squeezing hard, “It’s a great game, you’ve just not got the hang of it yet!”

Alastor was in his element. Projecting excitement, radiant when everyone nodded along in encouragement. Angel was two seconds away from wringing his fucking neck. 

“It would be such a pity for you to miss all the _fun._ ” 

Angel cleared his throat. _A challenge_. Angel threw over the notion that he was being stupid. There were too many coincidences. From the card game to the dress. Down to the last little detail. 

Alastor had planned this.

That fucking _asshole_ was toying with him. 

Angel shuffled his deck, smile growing. 

The thing about being a shameless flirt was that he could get away with almost _anything_

“Y’know if you wanted to play with me so badly, _Al_ ” 

Angel practically purred his name, not caring about the several sets of rolling eyes at the table. 

“All ya had to do was ask.” 

He waited until Alastor's eyes were back on him, fingers dancing across his neck until he heard the light buzz of static.

_Game on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise only 1(one) more chapter is as frustrating as this one. RIP.  
> As always comments/kudos are very much appreciated :)


	5. Running out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi! Welcome back :)
> 
> Tags: Shadows (of the nsfw kind), wet dream, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, teasing, breath play, drinking games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I think I'm drowning, Asphyxiated, I wanna break this spell that you've created_ \- Time is running out-Muse

Angel threw his back against the nearest building, panting heavily. 

He was being hunted. 

He didn’t know who- or what- was chasing him.

But it wasn’t one of Val’s lackeys.

They were too relentless- too cunning-

_Too quick._

Angel screamed into the hand around his mouth, eyes watering as his arm was twisted behind his back. He tried to pull himself free with his extra appendages only to find them immediately apprehended. 

Their grip was colder than ice, restraining him till he couldn’t move an inch. 

Angel tried to look at his assailants- 

-multiple now, he was sure of it- 

-only to have a thick cloud of smoke obscure his vision. 

He whined and they laughed as one, a deep timbre that vibrated through his body, sending jolts straight to his crotch. 

_Shit_.

It wasn’t the first time Angel’s body had confused danger for pleasure. Just the way he was fucking wired he guessed. But surprisingly the fiends didn’t mock him. If anything they tightened their grip, lifting Angel off the ground and crowding around him. 

Angel couldn’t help it. 

He fucking _whimpered._

It was obvious where this was going. Angel still shivered when his clothes were torn off him, unseen claws ripping through fabric and puncturing his flesh. 

He gasped when a firm hand wrapped around his cock, twisting once. A few pumps and he was futilely trying to find something to grind against. 

Angel was surrounded on all sides but nothing about their bodies felt _solid._

They continued to toy with him, stimulating every inch of his body, amused by how wantonly he cried out for more. 

Angel’s mouth filled with copper when soft lips met his, swallowing his screams like it was their lifeblood. 

Some brush of familiarity danced just out of his grasp, taunting him to give in.

To submit. 

Angel’s body became more pliant, arching as the smoke around him lifted. He tried to focus through bleary eyes, wanting to see who was dragging him towards ecstasy. 

Angel _knew_ them.

Pressure was building at the base of his spine.

He could almost see them.

He was gonna-

_-Angel recognised that chilling smil-_

His eyes snapped open. 

Tangled in his sheets, whole body slick with sweat, panting heavily.

_A dream._

It was just a dream. An extremely realistic and ridiculously hot one, but a dream nonetheless. Angel huffed, shifting his body and realising the dream hadn’t left him unaffected. His cock throbbed in time with his rapid pulse, straining against his sheets. His peak cruelly snatched away when he woke up. 

Angel forgot himself, almost flushing three whole weeks of abstinence down the drain with the need to chase the rapidly disappearing high. 

_No!_

Saved at the last second, Angel remembered everything. What he was so close to finishing. He would _not_ be falling at the final hurdle, no matter how much he wanted to. 

He refused to take that decision lightly though. 

Angel whined and bucked his hips against nothing, resigning himself to his fate with nothing short of a temper tantrum. It wasn’t fucking _fair_. He’d only gone to lie down for a quick nap, a way to refresh himself for what was going to be a really long night. Of course, he’d gone and made everything worse with a fucking wet dream. Angel shouldn’t have been surprised, but the sheer audacity of his psyche doing this to him now was farcical at best.

A loud groan echoed around Angel’s room as he buried his head in his hands. Now fully conscious; he knew exactly who he’d been imagining. The idea of several Alastors running around was a sobering thought, but the fantasy was one he was filing away for later use. 

Angel was about to reach for his phone to find something to distract him from the worst case of blue balls when he froze. Pleasure shot through his throbbing cock as it was enveloped by a tight grip. The skin on his cockhead was palmed softly, then the feeling of a fist slowly pumping up and down his length.

Angel moaned, lifting his sheets high, holding his breath when he found-

-nothing.

Angel stared at his cock for a few seconds, completely confused, releasing his breath in a loud huff.

_How could that be-_

“Fuck!”

As soon as the sheets fluttered back down Angel was arching clean off the bed. The feeling was back, phantom hand jerking him rapidly as he reeled from the sensation. He balled the sheets into his hand, lifting them once more, and again everything stopped. 

Angel debated jumping out of his bed, primal fear of the unknown overriding rational thought. But that was stupid. He had to be imagining it-there was no way it could be-

_Unless._

Alastor’s grin flashed in his mind. 

As did the ones of the shadows always haunting his footsteps. 

Angel let the sheets go. 

“You fuckin-” he panted, eyes rolling with another sharp twist down his pulsing cock, “Oh-fuck- right there-ah!”

After so long with so little, it was overwhelming. Angel tried to curl in on himself only to have his legs pinned against the mattress. 

Message received loud and clear. 

Angel just had to lie there and take it.

He almost sobbed in relief when a weight settled between his thighs. More hands clawed at Angel’s oversensitive flesh, making him see stars when his ass was grabbed and pulled apart. A small alarm bell was ringing in his head, but he ignored it. It was hard to think of anything else than the white-hot pleasure coursing through his body. His legs were shaking, precum oozing from the tip of his cock. He was finally getting what he needed, what his body was crying out for.

When a sharpened digit smeared slick around the slit of his cock, he keened. 

He felt the coil of pleasure building fast- threatening to rip him apart- rising and rising until-

-everything vanished.

“Son of a bitch!”

It dawned on Angel all too late, Alastor's laugh rang around his head. The final test. Pushing Angel to the edge, but make sure he was the one to pull the trigger.

Evil. In its purest fucking form.

Tears of frustration pricked Angel’s sockets, screaming into the pillow. He was so close, all he needed was a few pumps and he’d be spilling all over himself. And it would feel _so_ good. It was the high he sorely needed, but giving in would mean snatching away everything he really wanted. He shoved his fist into his mouth, sobbing around it he added a new bite mark to his growing collection. 

He stayed there as everything but the pain slowly slipped out of his grasp. 

As soon as some of Angel’s sanity returned he threw himself out of bed, pulling on the first pair of shorts he could find. He grabbed his chalk, rubbing it over his hands as he stomped down the hall. Alastor’s bedroom door was narrowly avoided. Angel resisted the temptation to pound on it and him every name under the sun by a single thread. He settled for the call of steel and bruises, planning on taking exasperation out on the pole instead of the Radio Demon’s neck. 

Not that Angel would last a minute before the tables were turned, the feeling of soft leather closing around his neck guaranteed to be sublime. But he was _not_ going down that road right now. 

Angel scrolled through his playlist to find something fitting his foul mood, half-assing the necessary stretches before launching into a well-practiced routine. Angel threw his whole body into each slam on the floor, not caring how much his knees were going to scream at him later. He writhed in a mockery of what his body needed, grinding with vigor until it was time to climb. He felt the rush of adrenaline with the first inversion, grinning as he gripped the pole between his thighs. His body weight propelled him around the pole, air rushing through his hair as he performed for the empty room. 

Well, it may have looked empty. It certainly didn’t feel that way. 

The sensation of being watched by invisible eyes was jarring at first, but Angel was getting accustomed to it. The difference being it never felt _this_ intense. Call it wishful thinking or a lingering sensation from whatever the fuck happened in his bedroom, but Angel couldn’t shake it. He half expected to see Alastor sat in one of the scattered chairs facing the stage with every spin. Funny how Angel had not given them much thought until now, but they were clearly set up like an audience. If only a small one. 

_A private show_ he thought with a smile.

Angel’s repertoire boarded and sometimes crossed the line into obscene. Necessary for his usual clientele, likely to have Alastor rolling his eyes. But that didn’t mean Angel couldn’t imagine what would capture the other demon’s attention. Ae moved his body away from the pole, engaging his arms to take most of his weight as he spun, slower than before. His long legs moved into v-split at first before extending out fully. He made the moves seem effortless, like walking on air. He made sure to arch himself just so, just in case his invisible audience wanted a closer look. 

Angel’s phone dinged from the side of the stage, shaking him out of his fantasy just in time to squeeze his legs tight on a drop. He winced having only just saved himself from face planting the floor. He dismounted steadily, not needing to check his phone to know what it was. Just as he suspected, there was another voice clip from Cherri labeled ‘vacay to bonetown’. Previously one of Angel’s favourite songs until Cherri started insistently sending it to him at every opportunity. Why he thought it was a good idea to tell her why he’d gone completely cold turkey, he’d never know. Saying it out loud made it more real, and he’d been bursting at the seams with a need to spill the beans.

The trust he had in Cherri’s ability to keep a secret only just outweighed the constant teasing. 

The chatter in the hallway as Angel finished up made his blood run cold. He didn’t know if anyone but him and Al knew about his makeshift studio, but him emerging from the otherwise empty room was sure to raise a few eyebrows. If they found it when he wasn’t there then he’d be able to feign ignorance, despite being the only dancer in the hotel. Caught red-handed, Angel wouldn’t know what to say. He held his breath, laying flat against the wall until the hallway went silent.  
That was close. Too close. 

Angel only managed to calm down when he reached the safety of his room. That relief was short-lived. He’d been trying to distract himself from thinking about the next few hours, but it was hopeless. Especially when he knew he planned on spending them at the bar so nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just thinking about sitting across from Alastor’s unwavering grin for hours on end had him reeling.

It was unavoidable. Tonight was _the_ night. Once the clock hit midnight Angel would’ve done it. Three whole weeks starring in his very own version of the song of Bernadette. And with the end in sight, not to mention surviving Alastor playing dirty again, he couldn't help smile to himself.

Angel had only gone and achieved the impossible. He wouldn't have believed it was really true if he hadn’t lived through every agonising second himself. 

Angel peeled himself out of his shorts, trying his best not to touch any sensitive spots before grabbing everything he needed for a quick shower. He set the heat to cold, avoiding all his sensitive spots until absolutely necessary. He would’ve skipped this step entirely under different circumstances, gross as that was. But there was no way he wasn’t going to be anything less than preened and perfect this evening. 

Who knew what surprises it was going to bring?

There was a spring in Angel’s step when he returned from the shower. He ignored the way his body tingled, taking the time to fluff himself with the towel while surveying his closet. He wanted to look good, but not like he’d dressed up to the nines, again, for a night of sitting at the hotel bar. Understated wasn’t usually in his vocabulary, but he was willing to make an exception. He could do subtle, even that word had lost all meaning in his attempts to impress Alastor.

Angel thumbed through his wardrobe, immediately disregarding anything loud or too revealing. He thought about wearing his favourite striped suit jacket but that both felt too formal and like he was resting on his laurels. The skirt he usually wore with it wasn’t a bad shout though, especially if paired with something cute. He picked a gray off-the-shoulder top with long sleeves, plain with the tiniest detail on the neckline. Pulling it over his head, Angel scrutinised his reflection before deciding something was missing. He completed the look with a thin fashion scarf around his neck, eyes glittering with mischief. 

There would be all manner of excuses to play with it if Alastor tried to one-up him. 

Angel paused before sitting down at his dresser, face flushing. His usual routine when he expected some action would include prep work of the intimate kind. While not a direct violation of the rules, it wasn’t like he had the nerve to bother Alastor for a clarification. Angel cleared his throat before slipping several packets of lube into his purse, flushing further. It was one more confirmation that this was really happening, and he couldn’t quite handle it. 

Angel tried his best to focus while putting on his makeup, hand only slightly shaking when applying eyeliner. He checked and double-checked his room was in order, made sure Nuggets had food and water, and that he hadn’t forgotten anything else. Satisfied and with only a few butterflies in his stomach, Angel approached his door. 

_Here it goes._

It was both a relief and a disappointment to only find Husk and Niffty at the bar when Angel arrived. The former was pouring the small cyclops a glass of wine and politely nodding along to her excited chatter. Despite his disdain for anything loud or erratic, Husk was a lot less grouchy than when he first arrived. As long as the Alcohol was kept in steady supply, of course. Angel made small talk, heard about their respective days, and then found out that Charlie and Vaggie were out of the hotel for the night. Angel’s mind went blank over the reason why, too hung up on how convenient it was. 

Almost like someone was pulling the puppet strings. 

Speak, or think, of the devil and they appear. Angel tried his best not to stare as Niffty flitted excitedly around her... _boss?_. He wasn’t 100% on the details between either of the other demons and Alastor, but he suddenly felt very outnumbered. A cold shiver went down his spine. If the Radio Demon decided didn’t want to see his end of their bargain through, then it would be all too easy to make Angel disappear. And neither Niffty nor Husker would speak a word on it when asked. 

Giving Alastor the perfect alibi.

Angel tried his best to keep his cool, mentally mapping out the escape route he’d take at the slightest sign of danger. He sipped the tea Husk had made for him slowly, convincing himself the bitter aftertaste was all in his head. Knives were more Alastor’s style than poison anyway. Angel said a prayer to no one in particular. If this was going to be his fate, he only wished that the place he was sent to would be a little kinder to him. Angel only managed to wave softly when Niffty left the bar, smuggling the rest of the wine bottle to enjoy in the bath she wouldn’t stop talking about. 

The three of them sitting around the bar was familiar. _Safe_. Angel managed to talk himself down while listening to Alastor and Husk’s usual banter. Alastor hadn’t given him any reason to suspect that he wanted to be rid of him. Especially Angel’s earlier torment was anything to go on. Angel was confused as to why he’d got so worked up until the realisation hit like a ton of bricks. What he desired in sight, Angel was too accustomed to things going wrong. Or having those same desires being used against him at every opportunity. Even with the bare minimum of contact, Val was haunting his every move. Angel loathed him for it. 

So, while Charlie and Vaggie being gone for the night had Alastor written all over it, it didn’t have to be a bad thing. Niffty hardly ever came out of her room at night, too busy listening to her record player and writing in the collection of notepads she kept stacked next to her bed. Repressed didn’t even cover it. Angel had peeked at the contents once, and once was enough. Husk was a little more difficult. He usually passed out at some point in the night, in his bed or at the bar. But on occasion, particularly if he was on one of his rants, he would stay up till dawn. 

Angel didn’t have the patience for that scenario.

He chanced a glance at the bottle in Husker’s hand, trying his best to calculate what kind of night it was. Alastor didn’t miss a trick, slamming his hand down in Angel’s eye line to pull his focus and flash him a knowing smile. Angel bristled, sticking his tongue out at the Radio Demon when Husk wasn’t looking. If he didn’t have so much riding on tonight, he’d be calling Alastor out for demanding his attention. 

Even if Angel loved every second, he hadn’t pegged Alastor as the jealous type. _Possessive?_ That was a different story. One he hoped he would find himself at the center of very soon. 

Angel swiveled in his chair to look at the grandfather clock in the corner of the lobby. _How was only nine fucking thirty?!_ He turned a heavy sigh into a yawn, stretching out all his limbs dramatically enough to have Husk think it was a hint to make him another drink. Alastor just drummed his gloved claws on the counter. Watching, always. Angel thanked Husk for the drink, trying his best to ignore everything else while he stared into his cup. 

_9.45._

Angel tried his best to focus on something else, anything, nodding along while Husk explained the difference between stout and porter. 

It was fascinating, he was sure of it. 

_9.53._

Alastor asked a few questions. Calm and collected. Like he had all the time in the world. 

_9.58._

_Fuck_

“You watching that clock like it owes you money, kid” Husk grumbled, smiling mockingly while Angel’s cheeks burned, “got somewhere else to be?”

Angel’s wicked streak snatched the opportunity, “Not without you, daddy.” 

Husk cursed him under his breath. Al didn’t even flinch. 

“You know, I once tried to make a belt out of watches-” Alastor started, smile growing before the punchline, “-but it was a _waist_ of time!”

Husk snorted. Angel flipped him off. 

Ready to go back to droning them out and metaphorically licking his wounds, Angel took another sip of his tea. 

Alastor had other ideas. 

“You know my dear, dear Husker-” Alastor ignored the bartender's groan, propping his chin on his palms, “I was thinking of that book I lent you not too long ago, that riveting tale with the feline returning from the grave?” 

Husk’s eyes narrowed, “What about it.” 

“Well you see our good pal Angel here-” Alastor grasped Angel’s shoulder, touch searing on exposed skin,“-has expressed an interest in all sorts of pastimes now he’s eschewed his old ways.” his hand lingered a beat longer than was necessary before gesturing back to Husk, “I was wondering if you were ready to part from it?”

“Sure thing, it’s in my room.” Husk replied, body stiffening when Alastor tilted his head expectantly, “You want it now? Can it not-” he cut himself off when Alastor didn’t budge, “-Fine.

Husk grumbled his way to the staircase, stomping in time with Angel’s thumping heart. He paused at the top, looking between them both, thinly veiled skepticism written all over his face. 

Angel swallowed hard. 

“Just keep an eye on Legs while I’m gone-” Husk said, waving a finger in Angel’s direction, “-Princess will lose her shit if she found out I left him alone at the bar.” 

“Of course, dear Husker!”Alastor sang, turning away from Husk so the bartender couldn’t see his tongue flick across his teeth, “Angel’s safe in my hands.”

_Shit._

The only sounds were the ticking of the clock and echoing footsteps as Husk made his way to his room. Equal parts scared and aroused, Angel did his best to keep his breathing steady. He crossed his legs and adjusted his scarf, determined not to let his guard down. 

“So, Al,” Angel took a sip of his tea, mouth dryer than a desert despite the spike in courage, “ya have a good day? Do anything interestin’?”

"Quite,” Alastor sounded disinterested until his head jerked over his shoulder, catching the almost inaudible sound of a door clicking on its latch, “Angel, my dear, may I speak frankly?"

 _Shit. Shit._ "Sure?"

A hundred scenarios flashed through Angel’s mind as he held his breath. None of them included Alastor spinning him in the chair and then shaking his fucking hand. 

"Bravo! Extremely well played, exceeding all expectations!” Alastor laughed heartily, positively beaming, “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t anticipating you having the gumption, or that you’d last this long.” 

He clicked his tongue, eyes glowing with dangerous intent. 

"Especially with my somewhat underhanded tactics." 

“I knew it was you, you fuckin-”

Alastor cut him off with a wave of his hand, "You've shown remarkable strength of character, Angel. I have no shame admitting I'm impressed." 

Alastor paused, boxing Angel back against the bar just like he did when he’d started all this. Angel found himself forgetting the need to breathe. 

“I'm exceedingly pleased, my dear. And, dare I say, somewhat excited next few weeks." He let the words hang in the air before adding nonchalantly, "If you haven’t grown bored of the prospect, that is?"

The bait was obvious. Angel didn’t care. His mind was breaking, body miles ahead and shaking with need. 

“You gotta be kidding-” Angel groaned when he moved, cock rapidly rehardening from the turn of events, “Al, fuck. I want you now, can we just call it early- _please_ ”

Angel cringed at how needy he sounded, already anticipating the refusal that followed. It was like clockwork at this point, but apparently, Al had thrown out the rule book. 

"Oh my, oh my-" Alastor leaned in, his pupils flickering into dials the closer he got to Angel’s face, “-you sound absolutely delightful when you beg, darling. I look forward to more of that. Much more."

Angel whined, rocking in his seat, "You're killin’ me here"

"-And more of that. Figuratively, of course." 

Alastor tittered at his joke, momentarily disarming Angel. He took advantage of the switch, hands landing on Angel’s shoulders, gripping tighter than before.

"Though I do have one trick in mind that's awfully convincing-” His gloved claws danced upwards, finally circling Angel’s neck, “Tell me, Angel, is there anywhere you'd consider inappropriate for bruising?" 

Angel’s mind went blank. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back instinctively, breath already escaping him from the thought of those long fingers clamping down. A loud slam brutally wrenched Angel back to reality, with Alastor jumping off him like he was a live wire. Which was surprisingly apt. With the amount of frustration thrumming around his body, Angel was pretty sure he could power half of Pentagram City. He quickly bit down on his hand, pain blossoming as he drew blood. 

Alastor’s smirk dropped for a split second, slight shudder the only sign he was affected by Angel licking stray blood off his lips. 

_About fucking time_

“Sorry, was down the damn side of my bed-” Husker yelled, waving the book above his head as he took the stairs two at a time. 

He mistakenly took the other demon’s wide-eyed stars as something else when he reached the bar.

“Hey, don’t fucking judge me. That guy gets your imagination going and then boom, dream town.” 

“Thank you, Husker.” Alastor cleared his throat, sliding into the seat next to Angel and placing the book at a convenient angle in his lap, “And here you are, Angel. I hope it helps make your nights more entertaining.”

Angel gulped down his murderous intent. Alastor was a sly, conniving, bastard who was enjoying every second of driving him insane. Maddeningly, Angel wanted him more than ever with that final taste.

All he had to do was hold it together for a few more hours. He could do this.

He just had to hope that fucker didn’t do anything else and make him ruin the book he was trying desperately not to grind against. 

Angel was left eating his words when Alastor’s attention left him completely. He’d didn’t move away, teasing with proximity, but other than that he didn’t so much as look in Angel’s direction. Husk didn’t seem to notice, far too busy keeping up with Alastor’s story, nursing his drink far too slowly. When Al pulled a newspaper out of thin air and started humming along to his radio, Angel almost screamed.

It was infuriating how easily Alastor could push his buttons. And how willing Angel was to let him. 

Angel couldn’t get his erection to completely disappear with how worked up he was. He settled for softening enough to hide it between crossed legs, picking up the book with the intent on using it for its original purpose. Anything to distract him from the fact time had ground to a halt. He was sure it was something he'd actually be interested in when the words weren’t swimming on the page. He stole a few glances over the top of the book, disappointed to find Al wasn’t up to his usual tricks. The lack of interest was somehow worse than watching Angel’s every move. 

Especially now Alastor demonstrated he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. 

Just when Angel was about to lose his mind completely, he caught the end of a sentence that made his blood run cold. 

“-I took one look at those gaudy, heart-shaped glasses and called his bluff. Sad to say he wasn’t up to the challenge-” Alastor boasted, not even looking in Angel’s direction as he lamented into his empty glass,“-Terrible fellow. Can’t for the life of me recall his name.”

 _Valentino_ Alastor was talking about Val, in front of Angel, when they both knew he hadn’t forgotten his fucking name. Angel saw red, dropping his book, all his eyes sharpening on the demon conveniently within punching distance.

“Hah! Pussy!” Husker laughed, thankfully derailing Angel’s suicide mission, “If only he knew how much of a lightweight you are. I could drink you under the table, anytime anywhere, and you fucking know it!”

“Oh?” Alastor wiggled his eyebrows, “I think you greatly underestimate my tolerance, Husker-” He flicked his hand, a bottle of mystery hard liquor appearing on the counter, “-I’m game if you are.” 

Husk fell over himself to slam two shot glasses on the counter, grimacing when he remembered Angel was in the room, “Ain’t this a little unfair?”

“Angel doesn’t mind, do you dear?”

Alastor’s eyes finally met Angel’s, and he hated the way he lit up from a scrap of attention. He bit his tongue and shook his head. 

“Good. You can keep score.” 

Angel nodded. All the time spent with Alastor was making his schemes easier to identify. This was going somewhere. 

It _had_ to be.

Husk poured the first round of shots. And the second. He didn’t notice when Al threw the third round over his shoulder. Angel kept his mouth shut. Husk poured again, necking his fourth shot along with Alastor’s when the Radio Demon pushed his glass forward. He swayed on the spot as Alastor took over serving up rounds five, six, and seven. Round eight ended with Husk’s face making friends with the countertop. Angel recoiled when Alastor lifted his opponent's paw, dropping it with a thud to confirm he was out cold. 

With a snap of Alastor’s fingers, Husk’s body started levitating above the bar, slowly steered up the stairs and in the direction of his bedroom. 

Leaving them alone. Again.

_11.56_

“Well, that’s that little obstacle taken care of-”

Alastor dusted off his hands, radio static completely disappearing.

“And I apologize for the mention of your employer, both for your sake and mine.” he winced, “Vermin”

"At least we agree on somethin’-” Angel mumbled, ignoring the hands hovering over his legs, “But that was real low, even for you."

"Perhaps."

Angel took in a breath, unsteady.

"And here I was, starting t' like ya." he joked.

"Well you know what they say-" Alastor’s hands struck his thighs with an audible crack, " _Abstinence_ makes the heart grow fonder"

"I hate you"

Alastor tilted his head, "I'm aware.” 

Angel opened his mouth to retort, but Alastor was gone.

He looked from all around the bar, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

Angel yelped when hot breath ghosted over his neck, shuddering when an unnaturally low voice whispered in his ear. 

“But that's not the whole story is it, Angel?" 

The bell tolled. 

“My, my-”

Hands danced around Angel’s waist, claws biting through the leather. 

"-It looks like you and I are going to get much better acquainted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative song: ITS THE FINAL COUNTDOWWNNN (do do do do)
> 
> The book if you didn't catch the hints is pet cemetery. Alastor would be a big King fan, imo :)
> 
> I was writing this when ep 3 of helluvaboss came out so I had to sneak in the song reference, it was just too perfect.
> 
> As always comments/kudos are appreciated and may push me to edit the next part a little faster ;)


	6. Physical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. 
> 
> Few things to note! This chapter is a little longer (not by tons but it's around 6.5 rather than 4.5k)
> 
> It's explicit.
> 
> It has a lot of kinks in the tags.
> 
> AND
> 
> I'm committing to the chapter count, I'm so close to having them done so I want to share this will not be ending any time soon :)
> 
> Tags: Explicit, Masochism, pain play, short talk of boundaries/safe words, tentacle fucking, restraints, rough treatment, overstimulation, breathplay, choking, limit testing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I want your rough house baby_  
>  _I want this right in your ear_  
>  _You let me feel your danger_  
>  _I let you make this feeling clear_  
>  -Physical, NIN

“So A-Al,” 

_Stutter, real smooth._

Angel was trying to gain some footing on rapidly disappearing ground and he was already making a fool of himself. 

Which was-

Not exactly the smooth bravado he’d imagined having when everything went down. 

But then he hadn’t factored in having to battle with Alastor’s hot breath tickling at his neck so early on. 

Angel took a second and tried again.

“Where do ya want me, hot stuff?"

Alastor didn’t answer. 

Not with words.

The Radio demon chuckled darkly behind him. He took the space between Angel’s top and skirt that he needed for his second pair of arms as an invitation. It was, of course, but he never dreamed Alastor would be taking him up on it. Angel held his breath when claws slid over the sensitive skin of his abdomen. Even through gloves, those things were fucking sharp. He knew he should say something else, anything to snap out of the charged silence, but his mind was malfunctioning about the possibility of this going any further at the _fucking bar._

The Radio Demon had other plans. 

As soon as Angel felt one claw puncture his skin, Alastor disappeared again. Angel knew it wasn’t for good, but he still looked around the bar with a rising feeling of dread. He had a fleeting memory of the kids he’d known growing up who liked to torture ants under a magnifying glass. Remarkably apt, but he shooed the thought away. He wasn’t meeting his end today, he reassured himself.

Angel was ninety percent sure of that. At least. Which was good enough.

"You know-” Angel said, putting on the same confidence he used in his day job, “I’ve been thinking about all kinds of fucked up shit we can do."

"Oh, I'm sure you have." 

Alastor was in front of him.

One of these days Angel was going to get used to the constant jumpscares. 

It wasn’t today. 

Angel’s first set of hands flung out as the second curled protectively around his waist. Alastor caught them in his sharpened claws with ease, grin practically feral as Angel gained another nic in his skin. Anticipation prickled through Angel’s skin when he realised how close Alastor was to touching his previous bite marks. Alastor knew exactly what he was doing when he lightly traced one with his thumb, dangling the sweet sting just out of reach. 

Angel was disappointed when Alastor’s grip loosened, then embarrassingly full of hope when he didn’t let go.

“On a serious note Angel, since we plan on becoming much more intimate-" Alastor paused, smile turning manic,"-then we need to discuss the terms. At length."

"Aww, c'mon Al! I'm dying over here-" 

Angel's complaint turned into a full, needy, whine when Alastor’s claws purposefully dug into his most recent bite mark. Angel's whole body shuddered, thoughts turning to mush. The pain was nothing compared to the excitement over how well Al was pushing his buttons. He was ready to surrender himself when Alastor stopped, completely letting him go to fold his hands behind his back. 

Angel huffed, lip quivering like a petulant child. 

Alastor gave him nothing. 

Angel almost screamed. 

“Fine, fine!” 

_Alastor’s game, Alastor’s rules._

“But I can’t wait much longer-” He huffed again, painfully aware that he was shaking in need, “Three fucking weeks, Smiles. I’m literally gonna burst if I have t’ wait much longer” 

Eyes seared into Angel’s skin, doing nothing to help with his predicament. Angel unashamedly posed, expecting the Radio Demon to look away the second he looked up. 

He didn’t.  
Alastor was intent on taking his time dragging his eyes over every inch of Angel’s body, lingering in all the right places. He watched Angel all the time but he’d never been so bold. Or borderline lecherous. 

Angel was hypnotised. This kind of attention wasn’t new. There was something so different about it coming from Alastor though. He’d wanted it for so long and now it threatened to make him crumble. To make Angel dust the fucking porn star feel _shy_. He squirmed in his seat, cock twitching without his permission as a heavy blush peppered his cheeks. 

Alastor still didn’t avert his eyes.

If anything Angel would swear they flickered to the tent on his skirt.

If only for a second. 

"I see.” 

Alastor gave a beat, letting Angel catch the duplicity. He was uncharacteristically thoughtful for a second before the crazed spark came back to his eyes. 

“I suppose since your prolonged state of arousal is clouding your judgement-” He went for Angel’s wrist again, grabbing tightly,“-an abridgement will do for tonight."

Another snap of Alastor's fingers and Angel was flying.

He landed on a plush surface with a gasp, confusion quickly replaced with realisation. The deep red colour scheme, glimmering coals in an ornate fireplace, flickering candles making shadows dance on the walls. He was in Alastor’s room. The same part of him that had turned demure under the Alastor’s stare was freaking out about the implications, but the rest of him was in awe. 

The room was _Huge_. Far bigger than the exterior dimensions suggested, more of an apartment than a bedroom actually, and the opulence was astounding. The lavish maroon drapes he’d only caught a peek of from the hall littered every available spot on the wall that wasn’t occupied by towering bookcases. Dotted about the room were chairs and comforters of every type, and more than a few desks with binders chain-bound tight. 

_Contracts._

Angel swallowed hard and looked elsewhere. 

There was even a fucking _chandelier._

What surprised Angel the most about the room was the presence of more than one bed. A sprawling four-poster in the center of the room with the same drapes as the walls, and a plain, smaller bed pushed up against the wall in the far corner. An odd detail, raising more questions than answers about the Radio Demon’s sleeping habits. 

Unable to do focus on several things at once, Angel had almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. That was until his eyes caught the glint of candlelight on a monocle, its owner observing him from the shadows. 

“Impressed?”

Angel brushed a hair through his hair, laughing softly, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“All the luxuries I could only dream of when alive-” Alastor hummed, stepping further into the light and running his hand across the back of a plush chaise longue, “Being an Overlord does have its perks, certain standards to uphold.”

Angel’s heart stuttered. He would never get used to the thought of Alastor being a living, breathing human as he’d once been. Without the claws, the demonic powers, the temptingly sharp teeth. Human. Though Angel was pretty sure he would still have propositioned him if their paths ever crossed. _Who was he kidding?_ One word in that low drawl would have had him on his knees in seconds, backward societal standards and personal safety be _damned_. 

A tempting fantasy, one he’d surely revisit, but for now-

“I bet it does-” Angel purred, rolling his hips towards Alastor until he was able to run his fingers up his arm, “So now you have me here- ow!” 

Angel’s hand was struck hard with Alastor’s microphone, the damned thing appearing and disappearing in a blink.

“Firstly, I’d appreciate it if my usual rules are still abided too-” Alastor brushed himself down, pausing a second before scratching his chin“-Well, I suppose some touching is eventually inevitable-” He laughed, placing _his_ hand on Angel’s arm in “But let’s stick to what we know for now.”

Angel’s stomach dropped through the plush carpet. 

"What the fuck?” He yelled, curling the hands that weren’t gesturing wildly into fists, “I’m sick of dealing with this double standard bullshit- We had a deal, Al! If you're not gonna let me touch you, how are we gonna fuck? And why-"

"Angel my dear, you misunderstand greatly-” Alastor’s tone was warm but firm, lips twitching in concealed amusement, “You're not going without. I wouldn’t dream of it, and I'm going to be very much involved. However-" 

A click of Alastor’s fingers and suddenly the room became a lot more crowded. Shadowy figures leered from every crevice of the room while several thick, solid tendrils wrapped around Angel’s limbs. 

"-perhaps in more unconventional ways than you're accustomed to."

The final pieces clicked into place. Being edged by phantom hands that disappeared the second he’d dared to look at them made a lot more sense when he considered Al’s way of controlling his multiple shadows. As did all the times Angel swore he was being watched, Al nowhere to be seen. But the dark figures were less of a shock than the tentacles winding around his legs. He’d had only seen Alastor use them once, the day he’d arrived, now he knew why that absolute bloodbath had lingered in his mind. 

Angel sputtered something unintelligible as more tendrils appeared, caressing his skin. 

All while Alastor slowly curled his claws in the air. 

_Always the showman._

It took a second for Angel to get over the shock of Alastor using his powers in such a kinky way. Unexpected, sure, but the more he thought about it the more suited the Radio demon to a T. Cold, calculating, clearly in control. Far better than any fantasy Angel could come up with.

But something still bothered him. 

“But what about-you-” Angel stumbled when a particularly thick tentacle reached the top of his thigh, “Don’t you want to-uh-how will you?”

“As stated, my tastes are unconventional. The focus is on you, my dear, as per our agreement-” Alastor answered, ignoring Angel’s obvious disappointment, “Now, what would you like as a failsafe?" 

"Safeword?" Angel offered, cocky smile firmly in place "Don't worry ‘bout me. I don't need-"

"-You will," Alastor interrupted, "I endeavour to break you, Angel" he tilted his head, eyes losing their usual glow, "-But we will avoid any permanent damage, physical or otherwise."

Angel blinked rapidly. Another curveball. He’d geared himself up for a night of taking whatever was given. His boundaries not only being considered but explicitly stated wasn’t something he’d had in a long, long time. But then, if Angel had learnt anything about Alastor in the last few weeks was that the guy _did_ have a moral code.

Twisted and misplaced, but not absent. 

Angel exhaled deeply, “Let’s stick with green for go, and red to stop?” 

Satisfied, Alastor nodded. He raised his hands as all of Angel’s arms were secured behind his back by the tendrils. Sweat trickled down his neck as he tried not to moan out loud over so little. His cock had other ideas. With nothing to hide behind it proudly tented his skirt, smearing slick across the front. Angel wanted to give in, ready to fall into the precipice.

If it wasn’t for the fact he could never keep his mouth shut. 

“So, I just wanna be clear-” Angel started, “If I ain't touching you, and you ain't getting off-"Angel took in a shaky breath, hoping he wouldn’t lose his nerve. "why do you wanna do this? I’m not complaining I just-" he cowered, finding a very interesting spot on the carpet to stare at, “I wanna understand why… this? And why _me?_ ”

Angel cringed, not meaning to go that far. Especially when he was sure the answer wasn’t one he wanted to hear. He was convenient. An always willing collection of holes and limbs for anyone’s disposable. He put down his reluctance to hear Alastor confirming that fact down to being used one too many times. 

Three weeks away from the game was really turning him soft. 

“Why indeed! Why else?! Pure e-” 

Angel’s eyes snapped upwards, “If you say entertainment, I’ll fucking scream”

Alastor’s hands flew up in mock surrender, “Guilty as charged.”

Then he laughed. A real one, without any background accompaniment or radio static. Angel’s stomach had apparently returned to his body to start performing cartwheels. 

“But that’s another misunderstanding, _Angel_.” 

While said demon would never get tired of hearing his name being said like _that_ , something about Alastor approaching him while he was restrained made Angel shake like a leaf. 

“I could get my fill of this sort of entertainment anytime, if I was that way inclined-” Alastor pulled off his gloves, unveiling smooth skin blackened at the tips of his claws, “Dull, rehearsed, drivel. But you, my dear, you’re different-” he laughed again, shaking his head, “Even I can see that.” 

The tentacles around his arms worked together to push Angel down, forcing his body to bend until he was looking up at Alastor instead of down. Angel didn’t think it was necessary at first; despite being a foot taller, the Radio Demon’s presence was commanding. That was until Alastor reached out to touch his face. Compared to the usual leather, his claws were remarkably warm. 

"Such emotion, an effusive spark in the darkness,” He wiped a thumb over Angel’s cheek, the gesture almost soothing “I did consider lowering my standards and watching one of your many of your picture shows, but-” 

Those claws dug in. Angel tried not to let his eyes roll back in his head. 

“What I gain from this arrangement, my dear, is seeing you up close. No, not just that, actually being the impetus,” Alastor drew closer, static buzzing, “The cause of every moment of pleasure, of denial...outcries of agony-” he squeezed harder, proving his point when Angel gasped against his hand, “There’s something quite different about being able to reach out and catch the tears falling down your cheeks, wouldn’t you agree?”

Angel, for once in his life, was rendered speechless. He’d expected a blow to the face for talking back, not _whatever the hell that was_. Angel had to rewrite his thoughts submitting to Alastor when they were alive. He was sure he’d have let the guy kill him if he asked nicely. 

No one _ever_ talked about Angel like that. 

Alastor released him, moving towards a well-worn armchair, taking his seat, “Shall we continue?" 

A small voice in Angel’s head recognised the question for what it was. _Consent._ But for once he couldn’t get his mouth to engage with the string of positive expletives in his head. He settled for nodding his head so vigorously that it almost snapped off his body. 

“Good. Very good.” Alastor leaned back in his seat, visibly relaxing, “Also on that note, I request you do nothing to stifle your reactions”

Angel found his voice. 

“Not a chance,” He scoffed, biting his lip for the full effect, “I ain’t exactly quiet, baby.”

“The room is entirely soundproof”

A stab of misplaced jealousy took Angel back, “What? You been sneaking pieces of ass in for fun when we weren’t looking?” 

“Ha, no. I simply enjoy my privacy.” Alastor’s grin widened, “And I have no wish to alarm the more sensitive souls under this roof with my other business.” 

A shiver went up Angel’s spine, and not completely for the right reasons. The deep reds in the room now seemed like they were for convenience rather than a design choice. He tried not to let his eyes wander back over to the leather-bound contracts and remember what he’d been promised. Al’s little speech might’ve knocked him off-kilter, but his body was still throbbing with need. And the tentacles wrapped around his legs were skirting teasingly close to his thighs. 

“You gonna sit there all night, or-” Angel didn’t get to finish that thought when a thick tentacle started pushing up his skirt, “O-Oh-”

“Oh, indeed.”Alastor’s smile parted, tongue briefly darting over his teeth, “I’m quite comfortable. Nevertheless-”

More tentacles extended from around the chair, seemingly tethered to their master, and Angel was swept off his feet. Suspended in the air, the tentacles maneuvered Angel like a rag doll, ignoring his squirming to pull him closer to where the Radio Demon sat. 

“-I do believe I’m entitled to a front-row seat.” 

The tentacles wrapped around Angel’s body, their touches moving from exploratory to insistent. All while Alastor watched his face intently, studying his reactions. Angel tried to ignore how flushed that made him feel. The tendrils around his legs had thickened to support his weight, and they seemed intent on widening Angel’s stance. Finding that sensation more familiar, Angel went along with it, breathy gasps spilling out his mouth. They were surprisingly soft as they slid against his skin. And pliable. Not what he’d expected, but he was fast coming round to the idea of them tearing him apart.

Figuratively, at least.

Angel’s skirt was being pushed up, rapidly rising around his thighs. When the head of his cock caught on the seam, his breathing hitched. This was it, the point of no return Angel was still half-convinced they wouldn’t cross. Like it wasn’t obvious at this point with how explicit this scene was. He made the mistake of chancing a glance down his body to see the moment for himself, only to have his head tugged back by a tendril wrapping around his hair.

Alastor smirked. 

Angel’s skirt was lifted up against his stomach, fully exposing everything. He was wearing panties, but clinging to the outline of his cock while the head poked out the top hardly counted as concealing his erection. If anything, Angel was sure it made everything more obscene. He wriggled against the tendrils holding him still, looking at his captor through hazy eyes. Alastor’s expression was more amused than aroused, and that was both maddening and somehow more of a turn-on. 

Angel hadn’t met anyone in hell so unaffected when he was on display like this. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d spent the time prettying himself up, fantasies of being pampered foolishly swimming around his head, only to have everything ripped and ruined in a flash. 

In contrast, Alastor was taking things slow. Frustratingly so.

While Angel knew all about being careful what he wished for, he didn’t want to wait. He’d happily let Alastor explore every inch of him in the future, by his own hands or otherwise. But right now, Angel was dealing with the fact he hadn’t been fucked in weeks. Not even that, he hadn’t come or even been touched bar Alastor’s teasing. He needed to be absolutely _wrecked_. He was about to tell Alastor as such but bit his tongue at the last second. He’d already been far too needy, and it wasn’t like Alastor was likely to give in to his pleas either. Angel was going to suppress his rebellious instincts and enjoy the ride for once. 

It was a perfectly reasonable plan, for about a minute.

Tentacles curled further around his body, leaving very little untouched. Two tendrils worked in tandem to hike up his top, sliding against his fluffy chest far too similar to a pair of eager hands. Angel’s eyes flickered shut as they wrapped around a mound, tip searching until it found the small nub in the center. He hissed and pulled against his restraints, arms twisting unnaturally. The suspended position was doing little to help with no way to hide any part of his body from the onslaught. Which would have been fine if it wasn’t so _fucking slow!_

“Guh-Al-” Angel whimpered despite himself, already needy, “Please.”

“Hush. Patience, Angel.” 

Angel raised his head, baring his teeth. Alastor was either oblivious to how close he was to breaking, or he was purposefully ignoring it. Angel fluttered his lashes, rolling his body against the teasing tendrils. He sent the Radio Demon another, this time silent, plea. It was a mistake. For a second Alastor’s gaze flickered back down Angel’s body, the change in expression when he returned to his face hard to miss. Alastor’s eyes were lidded, but rather than making his expression softer it made his pupils sharper. 

And that pinpoint focus was all on Angel. 

That was the start of his downfall. Angel tried to bite back the needy whines when marks started glowing, casting more shadows in the dimly lit room. It didn’t help when his glow caught Alastor’s eyes, the reflection a mockery of tiny sparkles in the crimson depths. And Alastor just happened to choose that moment to have one of his tentacles brush up the length of Angel’s neglected cock, shattering any sense of control he had left. 

“Oh fuck-” Angel moaned, whole body shaking as arched into the touch, “Please-Al- come on, please-faster-pl-hmfg!”

He was silenced by a black tendril forcing its way into his open mouth. Embarrassingly, Angel’s initial instinct wasn’t to gag or wrench away. He’d been trained too well. His eyes were streaming with tears but his jaw was already relaxing and his throat swallowing around the invading appendage. He knew what he’d rather have shoved down his throat, but he was pleased to hear the sound of static filling the room. 

“Aren’t you _resourceful?_ ” Alastor chuckled, drumming his fingers in an erratic rhythm on the edge of the chair.

Angel could only nod as tears streamed down his eyes. 

That resourcefulness, as Al had put it, was rewarded with a tentacle slipping up the back of his skirt. It gently moved the gusset of his panties to the side, intentions clear. Angel whimpered, wordlessly pleading as an impossibly thick tendril slid between his ass cheeks. He briefly remembered the lube packets in his purse, squirming, only to find the length teasing his hole now deliciously slick.

Angel’s heart rate was picking up, anticipation rolling off him in waves, but he just couldn’t wait any longer. His body jerked in Alastor’s grasp, trying everything he could to gain more friction or entice the tentacle inside him. Any last shreds of willpower when the tip eased into Angel’s body, moaning loudly around his gag while rocking his hips backward. 

“Defiant thing, aren’t you?” Alastor’s teeth snapped shut, seething. “Fine. Let’s see how you handle the lack of finesse you’re so eager to experience.”

_Snap._

Angel’s legs were pulled further apart and a tendril tore his panties clean off his body. 

_Snap._

The tentacle around Angel’s cock stopped teasing, squeezing his length with rapid abandon. 

_Snap._

Angel gag was removed, he gasped once, screaming when he was penetrated roughly. The tip of the tendril slipped past his rim, not letting up until Angel opened around it. 

With three weeks of nothing, even the first few inches stung like a bitch. But _fuck_ was incredible. It toed the line perfectly between pleasure and pain, and for a second Angel thought he was in heaven. 

The devilish grin opposite him promised everything but. 

Angel keened. He desperately moved his body, writhing against the dual assault as the high he’d denied himself came hurtling towards him like a freight train. His marks were burning hot, senses assaulted with every lick of the tendrils holding him up. Angel panicked, trying to get Alastor’s attention as the Radio Demon hurtled him towards an early release. Alastor’s grin was sly when the tentacles slowed, hands crossing over his mouth as he leant forward in the chair. 

“Too much?”

_He really had no idea._

“Fuck-I’m-fuck-green-ah-ah!”

Alastor’s eyes went wide with the jarring screech of radio feedback. The tentacle in his ass pushed further inside, curious, and Angel was too far gone to stop himself. His whole body arched as he came. Hard. White spots danced in his vision as thick strings spilled out his cock, stark against the tentacle still pumping his length. Angel was pretty sure he heard laughter in his own voice as the edges went fuzzy, body tingling all over. He basked in it for a few moments before his brain caught up. 

Angel’s usual pink blush turned a darker red than his surroundings.

In all the ways he’d imagined fucking Alastor for the first time, coming too soon wasn’t on the list. The pure shame likely written all over his face. He was about to try to move when he felt claws, real ones, trailing down his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Bravo. Rest assured, sweet one-” He grinned when Angel’s eyes widened at the endearment, running his hands down through Angel’s hair, “-that was worth the ticket price alone.” 

Angel blinked a few times, trying to process the praise. Among other things. For one, Alastor’s ever-present bowtie was askew. It could be a trick of the light considering Angel was looking at him from a different angle, but it was far too tempting to read it as a sign. He’d got under the Radio Demon’s skin. If only a little. Enough for that shame to become tinged with pride. Angel sighed as his body went lax, enjoying the last of his post-orgasmic glow as he was held in the air. It would’ve been kinda sweet if his cradle hadn’t been fucking him seconds ago.

Or if their owner wasn’t looking awfully hot under the collar. 

“While I do take full responsibility for constantly riling you up-” Alastor went back to the armchair, perching on the edge and crossing his legs, “You will ask for permission in the future, understood?”

“Uh, sure,” Angel shivered, cowering under the glared daggers, “Yes, Alastor.” 

“Excellent. Time for the main event-” Alastor ignored Angel’s squeak of panic, his top leg bouncing rapidly as he spoke, “I did think about introducing other implements. But, since you’re more receptive to pain than I anticipated, I believe the true torture tonight would be in immediate persistence.”

Angel wasn’t quite awake enough to translate Alastor’s grandiose ramblings into plain English, but the slither of tentacles across his sensitive body was enough of a hint. 

Alastor wasn’t done with him. 

Angel’s heart was jackhammering. Alastor had the perfect out now Angel had come, and he wasn’t taking it. Alastor was getting something out of this. It wasn’t clear _what_ , but Angel’s whole perspective about him was starting to shift. With Angel restrained, no way for him to even think about getting involved without Alastor’s say so, he was calling the shots. And since he wasn’t fucking Angel directly, there was no telling where he’d want to stop. 

If at _all._

Despite release still dripping onto the floor, Angel’s body was already trembling with renewed desire. 

Tendrils slid around Angel’s body, forcing whimpers to fall out his mouth constantly as he was caught between jerking away and leaning into the touch. It sounded unbelievable, but Angel was sure his buttons were being purposefully sought out to be teased relentlessly. It took Angel a second to realise Alastor was mapping out his body, finding out where he liked to be touched. Much faster than any partner he’d in recent memory if his moans were anything to go by. 

If anything, the Radio demon was intent on driving him crazy. 

Angel’s legs were given even more attention as they were slowly manipulated apart. The tops of his thighs in particular were caressed inch by inch as they moved higher with each pass. While the slide of slippery tentacles were enough to have him constantly panting, Angel’s mind was running with possibilities. He wanted to feel the sharp sting of teeth on his inner thigh, the threat it could turn bloody with the slightest slip of control. He still wasn’t sure if Alastor would ever grace him with such a gift personally, but the fantasy alone was enough for now.

Especially with the soft sound of leather being torn into being just audible above his breathy moans. His audience was impatiently waiting for a show, and the performer in Angel was itching to deliver. 

Angel rolled his body upwards, wantonly mewling when the fluff on his chest was thoroughly assaulted. He put on his best coquettish expression and wiggled against his restraints. He was rewarded with more of his body being engulfed, Alastor’s eldritch appendages refusing to leave anything untouched. 

Angel couldn’t see himself, which was probably for the best. 

Clothes torn and pushed up, come still drying on his fur, covered in writhing black tendrils. 

He was sure he looked as depraved as felt.

He was, however, able to look in Alastor’s direction, his eyes drawn to the other Demon’s crotch. _Nothing_. The intensity of Alastor’s attention was conflicting, but Angel was starting to piece the puzzle of the Radio Demon together. The more Angel thought about it, the more he realised how misplaced his disappointment had been too. If this was what Al enjoyed, then Angel was on board. Especially when what _he_ enjoyed was being so expertly catered to. Nor when there was a definite flicker of mischief in Alastor’s eyes when a tendril worked its way around Angel’s oversensitive length. 

“Ah-ah-” Angel whined as his cock was given a languid stroke, “Al-”

“Yes?” Alastor cut in, tone far too chipper for the situation, “-Is it finally too much?”

Angel jerked when his cock was stroked again, high-pitched sounds falling out his open mouth making it impossible to form words. He nodded his head as more tears pricked at the side of his eyes, ruining any makeup he had left. 

Alastor only tilted his head in amusement, “Marvelous.” 

The tentacle on Angel’s cock wrapped around fully, encasing his length in a wet heat that made his head spin. He wasn’t fully soft, but he could feel his biology rebelling against the onslaught of sensation by trying to shrink into his body. More tendrils appeared, caressing his pelvis and balls until Angel was torn between feeling like he was being touched by a live wire and the pleasure tantalisingly just out of reach. 

“Oh fuck-fuck-” Angel moaned, mouth running while the rest of his mind shut down, “Alastor- please-I don’t- please- fuck-”

“Fuck is not your safeword, is it?”

Angel, unable to back down from a challenge, spat back, “Fuck you.” 

“Oh Angel, you’re incorrigible-” Alastor laughed, making the tendril around his cock twist around his sensitive head, “-Don’t misconstrue my jesting, I do so enjoy hearing you say it. Whoever knew a single word could have so many different inflections!” 

It seemed like another strand of the Radio Demon’s incessant teasing at first. But then he stood, actually taking the time to walk around Angel’s body as the tentacles maneuvered him until they were face to face. 

Angel’s hair gently moved out of his eyes. A nice touch all things considered.

Forgotten in seconds when Alastor _finally_ did what they’d been dancing around for weeks. 

Claws danced up Angel’s throat, hand fitting around like it was made to be there.

The skin on skin was almost too much, each little movement searing.

When Alastor’s claws found Angel’s windpipe and _squeezed_ , the inferno roared. 

“You’re not ready to stop, are you?”

Angel felt his cock twitch, already thickening again as he shook his head. 

The grip tightened.

“Out loud, Angel”

Alastor’s claws released their hold long enough for Angel to choke out, “No.”

Angel couldn’t get his eyes to focus enough to see the other demon’s face clearly, but he knew Alastor was pleased with how quickly he resumed. Those long claws grasped his neck, slowly increasing the pressure until Angel’s breathing turned shallow and desperate. His head started swimming, arms struggling against his bindings as instinct kicked in. His vision blurred further just as warm breath ghosted his face. Alastor was drinking in his fill as he stole what little oxygen Angel had left.

Just as the void beckoned, Alastor let go. Angel sputtered, gasping for breath as his whole body tingled from the lack of oxygen. Somehow his cock was back at full mast despite how recently he’d come. Apparently, there really was a level of horny that could override his usual refractory period. 

Alastor, wicked as ever, seemed positively thrilled at the turn of events.

Or, more likely, the opportunity to torment Angel further. 

“Oh forgive me, who am I to interrupt!” Alastor sang, leaving Angel’s side and back to that infernal chair, “I’ve been stepping all over your role my dear, would you care to reclaim the spotlight?”

Alastor watched him, not moving a finger. Or more importantly, any of the tentacles wrapped around Angel’s body. Glaring daggers and shaking limbs, Angel tried to move against his slippery restraints. He hardly moved, frustration at the lack of stimulation already seeping into his heavy breaths.

And the bastard just smirked at him, waiting.

“Ya know there’s not a lot I can-ah-” 

Angel’s body was manipulated until he was more upright, jerking in surprise when he was placed on the solid surface of another chair.

Conveniently parallel and exceeding close to Alastor’s. 

“Thanks.” Angel spat. 

Alastor didn’t respond. He balanced his chin on his hand, expectant. Stage fright happened to the best performer but Angel forced it down. He wasn’t about to be outmatched by a smarmy prick when in his element. 

Angel experimentally moved his limbs to try and judge the new leeway. His legs spread, thrusting into the makeshift sheath the tentacle had made over his dick. He cringed at the way his knees knocked together, but he kept going, pulling out all the stops as he writhed in the chair. He tried to put on his work face, to go into autopilot, but he kept stumbling. He thought Al would be taunting him for his failure at this point, but if anything his interest seemed to with each shaky breath.

Angel’s shuddered and arched, unable to focus on anything but his own pleasure. What looked good or sounded right didn’t seem to matter, not when Alastor had been so insistent about wanting something more than performance. Angel’s voice took on a foreign tone as his hips found an unsteady rhythm, one far more guttural than he was used to hearing come out his mouth. His self-doubt wouldn’t leave though, and Angel held off for as long as possible until the urge to check he wasn’t making a fool of himself shifted to overbearing. 

The worry was for nothing. Alastor hadn’t moved, but that didn’t mean he’d become disinterested. No matter how well he hid it, there was no missing the way his chest was rising and falling with uneven breath. Or the slight twitch of his hand when Angel’s body jerked uncontrollably. Angel started seeking more of the minuscule reactions, giving in to the sensations and soaring whenever Alastor’s breathing hitched. 

It didn’t take long for Angel to start unraveling. The build-up was slower, more tantalising. The high it promised even better than the first. His body started glowing, legs trembling as he tried to get more friction. The touches that had felt like too much were rapidly turning into not enough, and Angel couldn’t stop pleas from hitting the thick air unchallenged. 

He wasn’t disappointed. 

Despite Alastor’s instance that this was Angel’s show, it became apparent he couldn’t resist the calls for long. Or, more likely, he was too invested to take a back seat. Angel’s body was lifted so his long legs draped over the arms of the chair, leaving a convenient space between the chair and his puckered hole. 

By the time a slick tendril was pressing against him, Angel was more than ready. When it pushed against his rim Angel shuddered from how easy it coaxed him to relent. He only hissed at the sting from the earlier treatment on that first thrust, as soon as it filled Angel fully he was sobbing with need. He locked eyes with Alastor for a split second, the weight of the moment not lost on either of them. Angel wasn’t sure if Alastor made the first move or his deafening moan spurred him on, but once he started he couldn’t stop.

Angel was delirious over how good it felt. The pace was slow but insistent, the tentacle fucking his ass constantly changing in thickness and angle. It dawned on Angel that Alastor was trying to find his sensitive spots internally, just like he’d done with his body. He had the fleeting thought that Alastor’s intention had always been to fuck him like this, but his stupid mouth derailing the Radio demon’s plans. But he couldn’t complain, not when the tentacle pushed at his prostate and had Angel screaming himself horse when it wouldn’t let up.

The pace was building. Angel was rocking his hips down to meet every thrust as he felt the coil of pleasure in the pit of his stomach. What flashes he caught of Alastor’s face showed him watching him just as intently as before. And that only made everything unbelievably hotter. At some point he must’ve started babbling, only noticing when Alastor moved closer, soothing the side of his face with a surprisingly steady hand.

“Craving your release again, so soon?” Alastor teased, the shadows in the room boxing them in when Angel moaned in response, “What an insatiable thing you are.”

He Grabbed Angel’s chin, forcing him to look at his grinning face. Despite wanting this more than anything, the position made Angel’s skin crawl. It was too familiar, but he pushed remembering why down to the depths of his soul. Angel must’ve given something away though as Alastor immediately changed tactics. His hand slipped down to Angel’s throat, holding rather than squeezing as he leant in to whisper tantalisingly close to Angel’s ear.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I, shit Al-” Angel’s hips canted as the tentacle thrust inside him, peak so close he could taste it, “Harder, please-fuck! Let me come-I- fuck, don’tstoptalking-”

“Flatterer-” He purred, vibrations sending a jolt straight to Angel’s cock, “If you’re looking for my permission to Angel, you’ll have it-” he moved a fraction closer, strands of his hair tickling Angel’s face, “On the condition you do so with my name on your lips.”

“Oh- _fuck_ -” Angel bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed, toppling over the edge with a scream, “Alastor!”

Angel felt his body lock up with white-hot pleasure before everything went black.

The next few minutes were a haze until Angel came round, disorientated. He was still in the chair, collapsed awkwardly against the back until he straightened himself out. The tentacles were gone, his clothing replaced, and any traces release completely gone. The only proof he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing being the overwhelming sense of calm he only felt after getting off. 

That, and his insides ached in the best kind of way. 

Instead of lurking in the shadows or pulling a disappearing act, Alastor was still there. There was a faint tune in the air, which he was absentmindedly humming along to until he spotted Angel was awake. He beamed at Angel, looking like the cat who had several cases of the finest cream in their paws.

It was kind of endearing. If you squinted. 

“Wonderful, I’m tempted to request another encore.” 

Alastor drummed his fingers on the chair, waiting for Angel to panic before continuing.

“I suppose all good things come to those who wait, and I shouldn’t spoil myself too soon,” He mused, eyebrows raising when he added, “I do intend to find out how long you can last, _darling._ ”

Somehow, after all they’d just done, Alastor was still flirting as coyly as before. And worse still, Angel could feel himself blushing. 

_Oh no_

Any thought of getting under the Radio Demon’s skin was a moot point with his little infatuation making itself known. 

It was nothing, he was sure of that.

It had to be.

But Angel’s usual tactic of fucking someone out of his system was coming apart at the seams and he needed to leave.

_Now._

“I bet! Can’t fucking wait-” Angel said, pushing himself to his feet only to find his legs replaced with jelly, “Shit!” 

In a flash Alastor was by his side, holding his arm exactly how he did whenever no one was around.

Angel’s cheeks were going to ignite any moment now. 

“Do you require some assistance getting back to your room?” Alastor paused, looking off into the distance before adding, “We won’t be discovered.”

Angel shivered, the arm linked into his gripping him tighter, “Thanks”

Somehow Angel managed not to completely melt as he and Alastor walked arm in arm down the hallway. He took Alastor at his word that no one would find them, but that didn’t stop Angel’s heart from thumping all the way to his door. Surprisingly Alastor didn’t desert him until he reached his bed, and even then his touch lingered as they untangled. 

There was a second when Angel saw a vision of Alastor tilting his face down, touching his lips to Angels.

He almost leant up, expectant. 

But he didn’t. 

That definitely wasn’t part of the deal.

“Do you have everything you need?”

It was a simple enough question, but Angel didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded with a soft smile hoping it was enough. 

“Then I bid you adieu-” Alastor bowed and turned away, pausing to peer around the door as he closed it behind him, “Goodnight, Angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Worked really hard on this one :)
> 
> Just a quick note on SSC. Don't be like Angel, 'not needing' a safeword shouldn't be an aim or badge of honor. In kink, be wary of those who insist they/you don't need them. Longer negotiations are incoming, but irl talk a lot longer than they do! 
> 
> Comments/kudos always appreciated! :)


	7. Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi! Here's your monday update everyone!
> 
> I've done something (I hope) fun here, If you want 0 spoilers, don't read the tags! :P
> 
> Tags:
> 
> Restraints, negotiations, Drug/Alchol mention, teasing, brattish behavior, predicament bondage, pain play, orgasm denial, chastity devices, semi-public kink.
> 
> Also one last note, I absolutely love Angel having a Daddy kink, the shut down just worked with their banter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Every little lie gives me butterflies_  
>  _Something in the way you're looking through my eyes_  
>  _Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive_  
>  -Teeth, 5sos

“Angel?”

Alastor's voice most resembled spun silk, Angel decided.

He smiled in his general direction, cogs turning and eventually picking up the thorn in the roses. 

“Yeah, I’m listening. Just got a bit-” 

Angel trailed off, smile turning sheepish with a faint blush peppering his cheeks. He’d not meant to space out, truly. But there was something about Alastor’s voice and his current situation that made focusing on anything else pretty fucking difficult.

When he was brave enough to look in Alastor’s direction he was pleased to not find the thunderous expression one he’d been expecting. Alastor was leaning against his desk, pen in hand, looking decidedly more distracting without his usual overcoat. Angel couldn’t remember a time he’d seen Alastor without it, and he hadn’t dared to say anything when he’d slipped it off for fear of the rare treat being snatched away. That red shirt was far more fitted than expected, and although Al looked _great_ , Angel’s mind kept wandering. 

He’d love to see him lose that as well. 

But that was beside the point. Alastor was smiling, as always. But it was different. The usual permanent grin he wore had softened, if only by a touch. 

Angel had the fleeting thought that it almost seemed _fond._

Which was ridiculous. 

“Sorry, Al,” Angel cleared his throat, “Drinkin’s fine. Just don’t have more than a few at the hotel to keep up appearances, yeah?”

Alastor’s smile widened, “Correct.” 

Angel returned it, exhaling heavily. That was a relief. No more evenings staring into a rapidly cooling teacup while everyone around him was enjoying themselves. Even if he didn’t miss the hangovers. Or the bad breath in the morning. Or the nausea. On second thought, maybe he’d ease himself back into it instead of the initial bender he’d planned. It certainly would go down better. 

“But-” Angel started, thinking out loud, “D’ya really think everyone will buy that I’m just ‘being sociable’?”

“Everything in moderation, my dear. Sustainability is far more believable. Prohibition be damned!” 

Angel was immediately drawn to the way Alastor twirled the pen back and forth between his claws. He’d noticed Al doing it a few times in between writing and honestly, it was nothing short of endearing. 

If you ignored everything else currently happening.

“Don’t ruminate too long on it Angel. Charlotte is not completely unreasonable, and as for anyone else-” A more familiar expression returned to Alastor’s face, “You have nothing to worry about with me in your corner, I can be quite persuasive.” 

_No shit._ Angel thought, trying to ignore how much his legs ached. 

“What about drugs?” he continued, “I know they ain't ya bag, but you still want me clean?”

“You remember well, and you can do as you wish.” Alastor sighed before adding, “Do let me know when you plan to indulge, though. There are certain activities I have planned that require you to have your full wits about you.”

Angel bit back a whimper. Alastor’s knack for suggestive allusions certainly had more weight to them now he knew the guy wasn’t all talk. He thought on his priorities for a few seconds, grateful for the silence. With this being a short-term thing, he didn’t want to miss a single second. 

So what if the cravings were unbearable at times. 

Did he really want to go back to the sniveling, shaky mess that would do just about _anything_ for a high?

When he had a much more satisfying alternative beckoning him to succumb.

“Don’t worry about it, Al, I’m not gonna-”

Angel started, the flash of oversharing panic stopped him in his tracks. Willpower was one thing, looking weak in front of the fucking Radio demon was another.

Besides, he suspected Alastor enjoyed it when he pushed back. 

“I’m not planning anything, just wanna know what to do if opportunity comes knocking. Don’t wanna go breakin’ any rules,” He stuck out his tongue, winking, “Just bending them.”

_There._

The flick of Alastor’s ears was minute, but Angel’s swell of pride was not. To his credit, Alastor had an exceptionally good poker face. But with all the time they’d spent together, Angel was just as good at picking up on his tells. 

Angel’s grin grew cocky when Alastor pushed off the desk and walked towards him, only wavering when he didn’t approach directly. 

He realised all too late Alastor was coming up behind him. 

Considering he wasn’t able to move more than an inch, it was really unfair. 

“Impertinence is a brave stance in your current predicament, Angel” Alastor teased, the sound of claws on metal going straight down Angel’s spine, “Or a foolish one.” 

Angel snorted, “You’ve met me, right?” 

He didn’t need to see the other demon’s face to know Alastor was rolling his eyes. Or to know he was getting under his skin. There was something so unbelievably satisfying about being able to one-up someone as powerful as Alastor, even for a moment. All while knowing he wouldn’t lose his temper and punish him for daring to talk back. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. 

Not if the sharp claw at the top of his spine was anything to go by.

“I have-” Alastor’s voice was smooth, the perfect balm for the sharp sting when he broke Angel’s skin, “-And wasn’t Lady Luck working in my favour that day.” 

With no answer other than Angel’s laboured breathing, Alastor paused. 

Angel whined at the loss until all four claws raked down his back at a painfully slow pace.

Eyes rolling back in his head, a moan slipped past his parted lips while he arched into the sinfully delicious touch. 

Tiny rivulets of blood were starting to matt Angel’s fur while he struggled, unable to escape. 

His body shook with need, unable to separate the tingles of pleasure from the sharp stabs of pain, and his traitorous cock hardened. 

With nothing to hide it, and no way for Angel to close his legs, it stood proudly, already leaking from the tip. 

Alastor couldn’t miss it, and the fact he was ignoring Angel’s need for more somehow made it even stronger. Just when the touch slipped lower, when the sensitive skin around his hips was gouged into, Alastor stopped, completely drawing away. 

He left Angel whimpering at the loss, coming back to his desk with a flamboyant twirl. 

“A moment, dear,” He hummed, sitting down, “I’ll add everything to the dossier.” 

Angel's jaw dropped when Alastor nonchalantly brought the tips of his claws to his mouth, cleaning off the stray drops of Angel's blood. One drop caught on his teeth, dripping down until he caught it on his tongue. 

It wasn’t the single hottest thing Angel had ever seen.

_Game, set, match to Alastor._

Not that Angel gave a flying fuck at this point. He was too busy resisting the urge to ask Al if he wanted another taste. 

One more direct that preferably involved that fucking smile wrapping around his slender neck. 

Angel was a fast learner though.

Silence now meant he’d get to cum this side of midday. 

_Hopefully._

Still, Angel had to bite back a frustrated groan when Alastor started writing on the parchment scroll. Requesting a copy for himself would only be granted with additional caveats, he was sure of it. In need of a distraction from an erection that refused to disappear, Angel settled for going over the rules in his head. 

At least the ones that would get him into trouble if he forgot. 

Alastor had made sure to reiterate his no-touching policy. Expected, and while Angel still didn’t fully understand the nuances, he knew a boundary when he saw one. 

What was pleasantly surprising was that it wasn’t as clear-cut as an outright hard limit. 

Alastor had elaborated and they’d come to the agreement that touching with permission was ok. If and when Alastor ‘deemed it appropriate’. Angel would be lying if he said he couldn’t wait to find out what that entailed. 

Work was out. Alastor had bristled when Angel asked about seeing his clients. He had meant in a more ‘keep em keen’ sense rather than fucking them, but Alastor’s reaction said more than enough. He'd tried to hide it behind a reasonable argument of keeping Angel away from anything to do with his boss, but it was too late. His next few sentences were garbled with static. 

So, that jealous streak wasn't completely in Angel's head after all. Not that he minded. It was fucked up, but the idea of Alastor getting all possessive over _him_ was definitely a turn-on. 

The other rules were easier to follow;

Don’t draw any unnecessary attention. Especially anything that could lead back to Alastor. 

Don’t tell anyone about what they’re doing; modified to be don’t tell anyone _else_

Angel had metaphorically held his hands up by saying he’d mentioned some things to Cherri, adding that she’d take his secrets to a second grave. Alastor didn’t seem too concerned, thankfully, if anything he’d reassured Angel he understood about having a ‘confidant’ as he put it. 

At first, Angel assumed he was more worried about gossip reaching the ears of Charlie. 

Or her dad. 

Can’t have your peers knowing you’re cavorting with the common rabble and all that political bullshit.

It was funny though, there was something in the way Alastor had phrased that request that was ringing round Angel’s head. 

_A little discretion, Angel. I like to keep my private affairs just that. Much easier for intimacies to flourish without watchful eyes interfering, wouldn’t you agree?_

At the time, Angel had nodded along, distracted.

Even now he didn’t know why it bothered him. 

Or made his heart rate increase just thinking about it.

He put it down to the fact his cock was throbbing at the specific burn in his arms and moved on. 

There were some other things in their agreement that weren’t exactly rules, but that Alastor had insisted on including. The main one being that with Angel taking up so much of his time, he might require him to be involved in his more nefarious activities. Angel had agreed, but on the request he wasn’t getting involved in anything to do with Valentino lest it lead back to him. Alastor’s laugh at that was chilling, almost as much as when he explained his dealings were more personal than turf wars. 

Angel had done his best to keep a neutral expression. 

Well, as much as he could do with the continued strain on his body. Any upper body stretch he had seemed to vanish with all four arms above his head for so long. 

Angel bit back another groan, realising his mistake to later. Now his attention was on them, sharp pinpricks were shooting down his arms, making them impossible to ignore. The burn was still pleasant but he couldn’t keep still. He tried to adjust his position, to gain a bit of relief, hissing when he heard another clink, legs being pulled backward until he lost his balance. 

“Something wrong, dear?” Alastor peered over the top of the parchment, teeth bared, “You look a little troubled.” 

“Kiss my ass.” 

“Heh,” He popped the pen in his mouth, biting on the end as a jaunty tune started on the radio, “I’ll consider it, since you asked so _nicely_.” 

Angel groaned, cock jerking against his stomach. He wobbled on unsteady legs as he attempted, and failed, to gain back some footing.

All it did was make his arms scream. 

His restraints were simple enough to understand. The more he moved, the higher the chains holding his arms were pulled. Easy enough, until you factored in the combination of a bar holding his legs apart being attached to the crank. Balance was all but impossible, as were any attempts to shield his steadily dripping cock. His legs were at the point of giving way and he was just hanging there, completely incapacitated, fully on displace. 

_And it was entirely his own fault._

Oh, how Angel _wished_ he could turn back time to slap himself in the face before he even thought about suggesting this. 

Alastor had wanted to talk everything out with decorum, sat on either side of his desk while they hashed out their terms.

Angel, ever the impatient shit-stirrer, had winged and pouted until Alastor relented. 

He should have known it was a death wish to compare the Radio Demon’s level of boring to one of Vox’s ‘Holiday specials’. 

That particular button was just too tempting, and Angel really didn’t know what was good for him.

To no one’s surprise.

Still, being naked and tied up in the fucking Radio Demon’s bedroom wasn’t all bad. Apart from the obvious, Al didn’t have to worry much about the whole discretion thing. Not when Angel would struggle to find a soul in hell that would believe him. 

He was still processing himself. 

“Hey Al, I’ve been thinking-” 

“-Goodness! There's a first time for everything.” 

“I’m _tryin’_ to help ya with ya damn list, asshole-” He ignored Al’s canned laughter, determined to continue, “I’ve been thinking, ya know, since I ain't abstaining anymore, and you ain't gonna want me bothering ya _all_ the time-” he wiggled his hips as much as he good, self-preservation be damned, “Can I jerk off?” 

“Colour me surprised! A decent line of inquiry, with many possible answers.”

Alastor leaned back in his chair, humming along to the radio and swinging his legs onto the desk. For the first time that morning Angel was struck with how fucking ridiculous they looked in comparison to each other. 

Like actors trying to perform two completely different plays simultaneously. 

The revelation did little to dissuade Angel’s boner though. 

“While I do so love to see you in such a tantalising state-” Alastor started, his gaze flickering down Angel’s body for a fraction of a second, “I am aware how insatiable you are, especially compared to-” he stopped short, clearing his throat,“-you won’t indulge without permission, understood?”

_Hot_ “Sure thing.”

“Oh! And if I feel inclined to watch-” Another drop of Alastor’s eyes, longer this time, “-I hope there’s no objection?”

Angel’s cock jerked, “Fuck no.” 

“Excellent. Anything else you wish to add?” Alastor sat back upright, hovering the pen above the parchment, “Or take off the table, now’s the chance”

“I’m good with everything, Baby.”

"Angel" Alastor’s tone was stern, "-If there are things that are going to impede our progress you need to tell me,” seconds ticked by while he waited for an answer that never came, “Do you think I didn’t notice when you recoiled yesterday?”

For a second Angel was dumbfounded. He looked at the Radio demon with genuine confusion until it hit him. His stomach turned with a mix of emotions, but surprisingly anger was highest on the list for once. 

_Couldn’t he just have one thing without that asshole ruining it._

“Ah, yeah that’s, uh-” Angel winced at the sweat dripping into his new marks, “It’s not you, I don’t know why it gets me it just feels too much like-” he forced a smile back onto his face, “I don’t mind you grabbing me, just not my chin, yeah? Little lower is uh-preferable?” 

Alastor was writing on the page before Angel finished talking, “Understood.” 

Angel let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, “Thanks for asking. Really, ya didn’t have to.”

“You are most welcome!” Alastor clapped his hands, mood completely switched, “Oh, and that’s another point. Manners! They go a long way, a simple please or thank you can make all the difference, especially when it comes to certain _rewards_ ”

Angel’s whole body shuddered.

The back and forth was fun, but he was getting real close to dropping the act and begging Al to break him. 

Even if that meant failing at his own challenge. 

The pleas were on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back.

_For now._

The pen was still in Alastor’s hand, not quite done with him. And Angel was positive a reward would be given if he could just make it through the task without falling apart. 

“So, with all these rules and protocols, whaddya like being called?”

Angel shifted his torso forward, reveling in the sting shooting up his arms. 

And the fact Alastor noticed.

“Wanna stay away from Sir and similar if that’s cool.”

“Of course.” Alastor scribbled on the page, “What did you have in mind?”

“Da-”

“Don’t.” 

“Huh. I dunno then-” Angel squirmed, heat getting harder to ignore, “I know you’re probably into it, but I couldn’t call ya somethin’ like Master with a straight face.”

He laughed. Alastor put the lid back on his pen and got up from his seat. 

_Shit_

“Contrary to your opinion, Angel dear, I don’t need any frivolous titles. I’ve always gone by my given name, even in hell-” He reached Angel, immediately invading his personal space by dragging a claw down the center of Angel’s mouth. “I’d much rather hear my name on your lips than anything else.”

“A-Al”

“My full name.” His hand moved downwards, to the side of Angel’s neck tilting his head sideways, “Where possible, of course”

“Alastor,” Angel whined, squirming against his restraints when Alastor’s breath ghosted across his neck. 

Alastor chuckled darkly, close enough that Angel could feel the vibrations on his skin. 

Those sharp teeth parted, making Angel’s fur stand on end.

He broke.

“Fuck, Alastor- _Please_ ”

“Oh, _Angel_ -” Alastor purred, “I wonder If you wou-” 

The knock on the door was deafening.

_No!_

Alastor was gone in a split second, pulling his jacket and gloves on with practiced ease while Angel had to bite his tongue to stop him from sobbing in frustration.

They’d been so _fucking_ close.

Alastor turned back to him when he reached the door, expression wicked as he placed a silencing finger against his smile. 

Angel would be listing ways to kill him if he wasn’t so blindingly hard.

“Ah, Miss Mange! You’ve returned-” Alastor sang with his talk-show host voice back in place, all hints of what he’d been doing moments ago completely gone, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Charlie’s tone was just as jovial as Alastor's, muffled words likely unimportant. 

Not that Angel could hear it over the pounding in his head. 

Blood was on his tongue, mouth screwed tight, fear of being discovered far too real of a possibility. 

Angel tried to keep calm. No one went into Al's room, knowing how much the Radio demon respected his privacy. If the worst happened he could probably force his last pair of arms into existence to help free himself. If Alastor didn’t do some magic bullshit and set him free.

Which, come to think about it, he could do now but _wasn’t._

A stray thought about everyone losing their collective minds and bursting into the room before Alastor could free him drifted into his mind.

And he really wished it hadn’t. 

Angel staggered forward, his body buckling as a fresh wave of need hit him. There wasn’t an innocent explanation for this, was there? Even Alastor wouldn’t be able to sweet-talk his way through an explanation as to why he had Angel chained up like this. Not to mention naked, legs forced apart, cock dripping onto the carpet. 

Angel was reeling as he bit his lip, desire clouding his better judgement. 

Part of him _wanted_ to be found.   
He teetered on the tips of his toes, desperately trying not to fall or make a sound while the conversation at the door completely blurred. 

That was, until he heard his name. 

“...We checked his room but there wasn’t any answer. I know he’s a heavy sleeper, or he used to be, but then we can usually hear the snoring-” Charlie laughed softly, “You haven’t seen him around, have you?” 

Alastor didn’t even flinch. 

“Hmm let me see… Ah, yes! He did mention he was overdue a catch-up with a dear friend. A Miss...Cherri? If I recall correctly. I’m sure he’ll return shortly with all manner of tall tales.”

Even through the whirlwind of panic he was currently experiencing, Angel was struck with how naturally the other demon could lie. 

A useful skill, sure, but no less jarring. 

Something Angel needed to remember when his mind wandered. 

“Oh, right.” The sigh was just about audible through the door, “I guess it’s good he’s seeing friends but-” Charlie paused, voice wavering, “I’m worried he’s going to make a mistake, and think it’s all over. He’s been doing so well.”

“Think nothing of the sort,” Alastor’s fingers drummed against the inside of the door for his secret audience, “Our dear Angel is far more robust than we give him credit for.” 

As if Angel needed one more reason to fucking _melt_.

“You’re right, thanks, Al!” Charlie’s voice was fading with the accompanying sound of footsteps, “Oh, If you see Angel before I do can you let him know I’m in the kitchen? He said he’d help with tonight’s dinner.” 

“I’ll make sure to relay the message if I’m granted the pleasure of his company,” Alastor called, closing the door and quickly turning the lock.

When he turned back to Angel, his expression was unreadable. 

He approached silently, ignoring the way Angel’s whole body was trembling until he was standing close enough to touch.

He didn’t, but something was pulling them together, Angel could feel it in the way his body was straining forward. 

There was a second where he was sure Alastor was going to march back over to his desk, tear up the rules, and then do the same to Angel. 

He never thought he’d have a thing for the sound of static, but at this point it made his cock throb. 

“I do believe your other responsibilities are calling, Angel-” A single claw slid down Angel’s face, not quite piercing, “Can’t have appearances slipping, can we?”

Angel whined and pulled against his restraints, a full tantrum if it wasn’t for the bar stopping him from stamping his feet. 

“That’s not fair!”

Alastor tilted his head, “No, I suppose not!” 

And that was the end of that. 

After a few more minutes of pouting Angel eventually gave in and allowed Alastor to slowly remove each cuff. His touch was hard not to shiver from, even through the gloves, but Angel stopped every little movement he could out of pure spite. When everything was removed Angel flopped on the bed, exhausted. He hated how good of an ache he had all over from being restrained for so long, and how certain parts of his body could still feel the phantom touch of steel. 

He also hated the fact his erection had refused to wilt in the slightest.

And that Alastor had noticed. 

“Oh my dear,” Alastor perched on the end of the bed, oozing with fake sympathy, “Leaving you entirely without restraints in your current state seems so _cruel._ I won’t stand for it.” 

_Snap_ Angel folded in on himself as something heavy settled on his crotch. 

He Arched against the bed, the sensation of _everywhere_ being stimulated at once absolutely overwhelming.   
He rocked his hips once and then it hit him, eyes flying down his body. 

Encasing his pelvis was another steel contraption, only this one was lined with a soft pink trim in a mockery of lace. It was shaped like a pair of panties, the only difference being Angel could feel the cage on the inside encasing his cock. 

And if he hadn’t cottoned on already, the heart-shaped padlock on the front was enough to make Angel’s head spin. 

“A bit garish for my tastes, but I do know you favour this colour. I trust it’s to your liking?”

A chastity cage. No prizes for guessing who was holding the key.

“You’re a fucking pervert, you know that right?” Angel spat, though it lacked any real venom.

If anything he was even more worked up knowing Al wasn’t leaving him completely high and dry. 

He’d have to remove it at some point. Angel couldn’t wait. 

“Charmed. You can redress now.” Alastor let Angel stand, snatching away the underwear he picked up first, “They won’t be necessary”

He made a show of folding them neatly before tucking them into his pocket. Angel only groaned in response. 

_Somehow_ Angel managed to dress without physically imploding, even if putting on clothes felt like navigating a minefield. With a steel bar around his waist and new gashes in his back, getting his jacket to close felt like an impossible task. One that was somehow made a lot worse when Alastor decided to offer his assistance.

If you asked Angel, there were far too many claws lingering in inappropriate places for it to constitute as ‘help’. 

After that Angel navigated his way through the halls of the hotel without being seen. He slipped into his makeshift studio, climbed out the window, dropped down a floor, exiting out the nearest side entrance. It was a lot of work considering his current state. But if it meant he could come through the front entrance without raising any suspicions, it was worth it. He had the sense to remember to drop Cherri a text for the other half of his alibi, not putting it past Princess to check up on him.

It stung a little, her concern for his well-being wasn’t his favourite thing to betray.

Angel was about to try and reach inside his jacket to readjust where the belt was digging into him when he spotted Charlie from across the hall. 

If he’d thought his arms ached before, it was nothing compared to them screaming when they flew to his sides.

Totally inconspicuous.

If it wasn’t for the feeling of the steel burning his skin. 

“Oh Angel, you’re back! I thought you’d forgotten, or-” Charlie trailed off, guilt flashed on her face,“-nevermind you’re here now!” 

“Just lost track of time, babe,” Angel playfully tapped the end of her nose, “Hope you weren’t about to send out a search party over little old me?”

“Oh, no, of course not-” She glanced up the stairs, “-on second thought, you go to the kitchen and I’ll let Alastor know you’re back, I asked him to look for you.” 

Angel broke out into a cold sweat when Charlie turned around for the stairs. For the second time that afternoon, he panicked. 

“Heh, don’t bother-” He said, trying to ignore the way his voice was dangerously close to cracking, “He don’t care.”

“Don’t say that, it’s not-” Charlie frowned, pointing at Angel, “I thought you two were getting along better?”

_Someone just hand him the fucking shovel next time_

“Psh, with the Radio Demon? He ain't exactly the friend-making type toots, he’s nice to _you_ but it ain’t for good reasons.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Charlie sighed, defeated for a second before the cheer came back with a vengeance, “But don’t worry, you’ll always have me!” 

And just like that, Charlie flung herself at him and pulled him into a hug. Angel bit back his squeak and closed his eyes in an effort to make the ground swallow him whole. He used all four of his arms to hug back in a way that put as much space between Charlie and his pelvis as possible. Even with the chastity belt in place and his boner firmly restricted, it still felt really fucking inappropriate. He counted his blessings when she let him go, trying to hide the rising shame behind a wavering smile and a silent promise to be more careful. 

But who was Angel kidding? He’d certainly done a lot worse in his time in Hell. And probably would again. 

He followed Charlie to the kitchen, droning out a lot of what she said while trying not to dwell on that thought. He was surprisingly pleased to find Vaggie waiting for them there again. A verbal sparring match was just what he needed to let off the steam bubbling away just below the surface. Charlie didn’t interrupt either, only chiming to give instructions or playfully join in with teasing her girlfriend. It would have been wholesome, if Angel wasn’t trying his hardest to ignore the fact every nerve in his body was itching to finish what Alastor had started. 

Abstaining for three weeks had taught him nothing about restraint that couldn’t be undone by that fucking smile. 

The weight around his pelvis was a constant reminder, pulling on him in all the right places whilst restricting him from being able to do anything about it. And Al’s claws felt like they were still on his back every time Angel twisted and agitated the marks. He knew he could march upstairs, tap out, and this would be over. Alastor had made that very clear. But he refused to give in so easily. So Angel did the best he could. He took charge of dessert, not quite trusting the other two to handle it after one of them had forgotten sugar in the last cake. It wasn’t his most precise work, but the sample tasted great so that would have to be enough. 

In all, Angel managed to hold it together for an entire hour. 

The cake was cooling on the sideboard and he was debating on the decoration when it happened. 

Of all the things to set him off, it was Charlie blowing bubbles at her girlfriend’s face as they washed the dishes. There was something so endearing, Angel was lost just watching them.

Until intrusive thoughts came knocking, completely unwelcome. 

He excused himself a little too quickly, feigning a want to freshen up before dinner. 

It was only when Angel was in the bathroom, splashing water to himself down, did he dare to look at himself. A soft blush was present all over his fur, turning the tips almost as pink as his markings. His eyes were turning glassy as one line playing over and over in his head. 

He was not going down that fucking road.

Yeah, sure, what Princess and the Harpy had was cute and all. 

It wasn’t for him. 

Or what he wanted, or what Al would ever even think of-

He caught his soft smile in the mirror. 

_Nope, Nope!_ he was fucking done with that line of thought. 

Angel spent more time than he meant to in the bathroom, only coming out when he’d taken the time to fully adjust the belt. And admire it in the mirror. Several times. He put everything else down to being more than a little wound up. 

Ain't nothing wrong with getting a little carried away when you’ve got a hot piece of ass edging ya, right?

_Right._

Speaking of, Angel purposefully took a little detour towards Alastor’s bedroom. 

Considering dinner was nearly ready, it wasn’t that suspicious.

Maybe Al could be persuaded to come help. Angel still hadn’t decided on the toppings and could use some input. Or at least, Alastor could watch Angel struggle to decide and make snide remarks while he did. 

That’d be kinda nice. 

Angel was all ready to knock only to freeze at a cracked open door.

That wasn’t like Alastor at all. 

For a few seconds, Angel didn’t know what to do. 

Or think. 

Against his better judgement, he pushed it ever so slightly open until he could fit his head through the gap.

Alastor wasn’t there, or at least, he wasn’t immediately visible. 

Angel couldn’t process anything after seeing the huge bed covered with a mix of leather and metal instruments. 

Some that looked like they were _really_ gonna sting. 

Angel pulled the door shut, smile growing even wider. 

He suddenly had a huge craving for strawberry frosting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Another note on SSC, don't do your negotiations while doing a scene. Al will be giving Angel a copy but it's not a good idea irl :')
> 
> Also I'm getting more active on twitter if you wanna see me occasionally scream/retweet/draw or talk about updates it's [ Nsfw Twitter](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon)
> 
> Comments/kudos/etc appreciated.


	8. Hold me down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!
> 
> Just wanna say that I'm super super grateful for all the support for this fic, It means a lot!!
> 
> On that note, this chapter is kink heavy, all in the tags!
> 
> Tw: Consensual Boundary pushing, public kink, collars, petplay, degrdation, praise kink, breath play, shoe/boot kink, sub-space, Orgasm denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I sold my soul to a three-piece_  
>  _And he told me I was holy_  
>  _He's got me down on both knees_  
>  Hold Me Down - Halsey

Angel’s phone screamed once before he flicked the alarm off, cursing himself under his breath for not deactivating it earlier. He was already awake, scrolling through voxtagram to try and kick his brain into gear. His own fault, of course. He’d been to the bathroom half an hour ago and stupidly checked the time. No matter how tired he felt, the adrenaline from the mental countdown made falling back to sleep impossible. 

Getting up early was one thing, but as he looked at the glaring single digit on his phone he was struck with how fucking ridiculous this was.

But Alastor had _insisted_.

Angel sighed, throwing off his sheets to try and force himself to surrender to the inevitable. Not only had he agreed to do whatever that asshole wanted, but the curiosity alone was going to kill him if he didn’t start moving. Alastor had requested he get up early today, and then refused to answer any questions as to _why_. Even going so far as to kick Angel out of his room when he wouldn’t stop needling him. Which, in hindsight, was probably for the best considering the already tiny window he had to get any sleep in. 

And because Angel’s ass was running out of spaces to mark.

He was complaining in the slightest. His back still ached pleasantly, proving just how alarmingly skilled Alastor was with a flogger. Just thinking about it now had him tingling all over, reliving how he’d made a point of hitting every one of Angel’s sensitive spots relentlessly. With all the build-up, Angel was putty in Al's hands. But he’d surprised both of them by being able to cum completely hands-free.

The tip of Alastor’s microphone being somewhere it really shouldn’t did help a lot though. 

While the memory was tempting Angel to stay in bed, that wasn’t gonna get him any answers. Plus Alastor was a stickler for etiquette, and being late would ensure punishment and he was sore enough already. He carefully got out of bed, getting dressed while making as little noise as possible. Another proponent of the mystery was that while they were still going on a walk, Nuggets was to be left at home. While Angel was sure his pig would thank him for the lie-in, he didn’t want to risk waking him and having to deal with all the pouting.

Angel could hear a sarcastic voice chiding _'Pot, kettle, black’_ , making him giggle as he gently closed his bedroom door. 

It was no surprise to find Alastor already waiting for him downstairs. 

But he was so engrossed in what he was reading he didn’t notice Angel immediately.  
Al was at his usual seat at the bar; facing away from the stairs, playing something softly through the radio. What caught Angel’s attention was the slight flicks of his ears, almost in time to the music. 

Alastor with his guard down, even if just a little.

What struck Angel the most was how _normal_ he seemed. 

And how endearing his little ticks were.

Angel almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But he also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was seeing something he shouldn’t, unconsciously making his footsteps louder until he caught Alastor’s attention.

“Good morning, darling,” he beamed, setting down his paper with a soft smile.

_All part of the game._

It didn’t stop Angel’s heart from skipping several beats as he finished off the stairs two at a time and made his way over. 

“Mornin’ sweetie!” In lieu of draping himself over Alastor, he sprawled across the bar and Alastor’s paper, “D’ya miss me?” 

Angel pulled up his hands, bracing himself to be shoved off the bar.

He was totally unprepared for the glide of claws through his hair. 

“Incomparably.” 

Angel froze, blushing despite trying everything he could to stop it. 

Al’s poker face was too fucking good, and the smug bastard knew it. 

Angel sat up far too quickly when Alastor stopped playing with his hair, not daring to look at the smirk he was sure the other demon was wearing. Time ticked on, reminding him that Alastor was far more comfortable with silence than him. 

_Fuck sake._

“Sooo,” Angel swung his legs over the side of the bar. you gonna tell me what we’re doing today, hot stuff?”

Alastor’s smile grew until it boarded on insane. 

“Why, we’re going for a walk!” 

“You know what I mean,” Angel resorted to groning when Alastor did nothing but drum his fingers on the counter, “Tell me, or I’m going back to bed!” 

It was Alastor’s turn to sigh dramatically.

“I don’t know why I plan surprises if you always insist on spoiling them.” 

When Angel didn’t budge, he picked up the newspaper with one hand, concealing his other one as a rousing fanfare played over his radio.

Angel was half expecting the Al to produce some kind of demonic bunny with how thickly he was laying on the act. 

Anticipation grew in Angel’s chest as he waited, impatiently, gasping when the paper was dropped.

Then he was cocking his head in confusion.

Angel tried his best to figure out how, and why, Al had one of Nuggets’ leads in his hands, of all things.

Especially as the collar attached wasn’t one he recognised. 

He couldn’t remember buying anything in that shade of red.

Nor would anything with lace last five seconds on a pig-

Oh.

_Oh._

To add insult to injury, Alastor held the collar in front of Angel’s face, beaming.

“You’ll be wearing this today.” 

Angel was shrill, “What?!”

“Angel.” A warning, “Don’t play coy.” 

Angel’s mouth opened and closed several times.

It wasn’t that he was completely against the idea, far from it. 

_But in public?_

Even Val hadn’t done something so scandalous. He’d parade him in strip clubs and in front of the cameras, but this was different.

Not to mention a level depraved he’d never expected from _Alastor._

Equal parts confused and nervous, Angel did what he did best and ran his mouth without thinking. 

“Of course I do but I ain't your p-” Angel didn’t dare finish, heart jumping into his throat, “I-I ain't a fucking animal.”

Alastor’s fingers tightened around the collar in his hand, stepping away from the bar whilst never breaking eye contact with Angel. 

There was something deeply unsettling about the permanent grin still being there while his eyes flickered with annoyance.

Even with his chest hammering, Angel was hypnotised.

“You do remember what I said when we made this arrangement?” Alastor’s tone was staticy, jagged, borderline cold, “You’re mine to do with as I please.” 

“Yeah, but this is-it’s not-” 

Panic slipped in as he waved his arms, frantic, struggling for words and finding all the wrong ones. 

“Just- fuck- go fuck yourself!”

Angel braced himself for impact again whilst mentally preparing himself for Alastor to refuse to ever touch him again.

At this point, he didn’t know what was worse.

It seemed like Al needed a second to decide too, but he ended up taking the third option and brought Angel’s trembling face into his hands. 

“It seems we’re at an impasse, my dear. A line you’re wary to cross, perhaps?” 

The leather of the collar and gloves were surprisingly warm.

You know what to say if it’s too much,” He soothed his thumb down Angel’s cheek, voice much warmer, “Just say the word,” 

Another out. 

One Angel seriously considered taking, but just the fact he _could_ say no was enough to stop him spiralling. 

Alastor could easily force him. He could make Angel do anything he wanted. 

But he wasn’t. 

The phrase ‘willing participant’ echoed around Angel’s head as he thought everything over. Not his usual thing, but being in his line of work there wasn’t much he couldn’t get into. Nor was he unwilling to try. 

Especially considering who was asking. 

Angel had a vision of Alastor parading him around Hell, visibly staking his claim.

He vigorously shook his head.

“What was that?” Alastor’s neck jerked at an impossible angle, “Use your words, Angel.” 

“Green. I’m good.” 

He hadn’t even finished his second sentence when Alastor’s hands moved around his neck.

Angel froze again, for entirely different reasons, before realising Alastor was fixing the collar around his neck. That twinge of desire wasn’t going to disappear though. Not while he could feel long claws delicately slotting metal in the correct rung, then straightening out the lace. 

When he was satisfied, Alastor clipped the leash on. He made sure to have Angel’s full attention before giving it an experimental tug. 

An unexpected moan slipped past Angel’s lips and Alastor’s eyes flickered dangerously. 

“Good boy,” He purred, pulling Angel off the bar by inserting two fingers between his neck and the collar, “Now, heel."

Head spinning, Angel immediately fell in line. 

Alastor led him out of the hotel, keeping them perfectly in step despite feeling like his legs had turned to jelly. Angel was painfully aware of the heavy blush creeping up his fur, threatening to turn him the same shade as his new accessory the moment anyone crossed their path.

Thankfully, no one did. 

They walked a familiar path for a few blocks before Alastor took an abrupt turn down an alley Angel wasn’t too familiar with. The streets became narrow, the shacks boarded up, all with an unsettling aura hanging thick in the air. Despite the creeping feeling of dread, Angel almost opened his mouth to ask where they were going when everything fell into place.

He couldn’t hide his sharp intake of breath when he realised he knew exactly where they were. 

When Angel had first arrived in hell, he’d quickly learnt his way around. The safer areas, the ones best avoided, and the ones you never went to. The turf occupied by the cannibal colony fit firmly in the latter category for most residents of hell, including Angel. He didn’t even like wandering close to the border on dark nights. He’d once been told that a pretty little thing like him wouldn’t last five minutes in these parts, and he’d take that to heart. 

Angel tried his best to keep his cool. He knew he had nothing to fear in Alastor’s hands, figuratively and literally. But his steps were hesitant, expecting unknown horrors to jump out at them at every corner. Without meaning to, he’d inched closer to the other demon, almost shuddering in relief when Alastor wound the lead tighter in his hand. 

When Alastor turned down another passageway, Angel relaxed even further. His mental map of pentagram city was rusty, but he figured they were now straying away from the colony’s boundary. He couldn’t figure out what was going on and was just about to ask what Alastor was playing at when he saw it. 

Roses.

Grass. 

Actual fucking _trees._

Angel was speechless. He couldn’t remember seeing anywhere so green. Not since he’d been sporting a mop of dirty blond hair and reckless grin. Well, he still had the second part. Angel made no attempt to hide it as he took in the sight of the sheltered haven. 

Alastor let him drink it in for a moment, content to rock on his heels while watching him with an amused grin. 

All things considered, there was probably a decent reason Alastor hadn’t brought Angel here before now. But that didn’t stop Angel wanting to give him a piece of his mind. 

The complaints formed on his tongue, only to be immediately silenced with a hard tug on his leash. 

“Don’t even think about it.”

Alastor took Angel’s simmering glare as an invitation to push him even further. 

“I think this is more suitable terrain for being on all fours” he chuckled, brows raising “Or sixes? Eights if you really want?”

“You’ve gotta be fucking-” 

“Good pets don’t yap at their owners,” Alastor interrupted, tugging the leash down until Angel was forced to stoop to his level, “Speak. _Nicely._ ”

*“We can’t, not here-” Angel whined, those words sounding completely laughable coming from his mouth, “What if someone sees us. What if they talk?” 

_What if Val realises I’m playing him?_ Angel didn’t say, but the implication was there. 

It wasn’t missed, not if the mumble curse was anything to go by. 

“They won’t,” he hooked two fingers underneath Angel’s collar again, conviction clear as day, “Trust me.”

 _Not as far as I can throw you_

Angel, sensibly, bit his tongue.

It wasn’t even the slightest bit true when he thought about it, not by a long shot.

Alastor had just as much to lose as he did, if not more. 

This was his idea- _no_ -more than that. 

Alastor’s want to have Angel at the end of a leash, submitting to his demands, was currently outweighing the risks of being caught.

Angel felt an unearned flutter of validation as his body wavered, the pull towards the ground suddenly overwhelming. 

He cringed when his knees hit the floor, shame hitting him like a tidal wave. 

He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

Willingly.

Worse, that he actually _wanted_ to. 

“Excellent. From now on, no talking unless I give you permission, understood?” 

Alastor took his silence as an answer. He thread his fingers back through Angel’s hair, stroking softly before patting him on the head. 

“Good boy.” 

Angel twitched.

That tone and the praise for doing something so degrading was really doing it for him.

 _Shit._

He would hate himself more if it didn’t feel like his chest was ready to explode with unprecedented warmth. 

Or if he wasn't distracted by his partially hard dick brushing against his stomach in this position.

Alastor barely gave him time to think before he started walking. 

Angel, for some fucking reason, had no problem crawling behind him. 

The grass wasn’t as pleasant as it looked, and it must’ve rained overnight as the park was covered in mud. Alastor was careful to guide him, attentive to where they walked while avoiding any bigger obstacles.

It didn’t matter. 

Angel could only be so careful, only avoid so many puddles, before he was marked irreparably. Small stones were biting through his gloves as a dull pain blossomed in his knees. Bruising sure to follow. Angel hissed through his teeth unintentionally, seemingly unprompted. 

Alastor was quick to react, pausing, then buzzing with excited static when Angel looked up at him through lidded lashes. 

He imagined how he must’ve looked. They’d barely been walking five minutes and he was already a whimpering mess. Loving every second and unable to hide it. 

The feeling of being paraded around, the pain, the throb of his cock every time the lead was pulled a little harder. All while Alastor was chattering away, no hint of anything amiss.

_Like Angel was always meant to be on the end of his lead_

Angel was still struggling with how willing he was to do something so humiliating. He couldn’t hide behind any excuses. He'd been given outs, several, and didn't take them. Any lingering doubts he had were chipped away with each pull of the leash.

At this point he was turned on beyond belief, but it was more than that.

He might’ve been physically low, but inside he was floating.

Angel wasn’t sure how they got there, but he soon found himself kneeling in front of an ornate bench. One that Alastor was sitting on. He had one long leg balanced on the other by a heel on his knee, meaning Angel had an open view of his crotch perfectly at eye line.

 _Satan help him._ Angel whimpered and his own legs widened.

“Oh dear, what’s the matter?”Alastor teased, switching into an uncanny mockery of a rural accent, “Wanna play fetch, boy?”

Angel wanted to tell him where to stick it, but everything other than base functions were currently shutting down. It played in his favour though, when he remembered Alastor had instructed him not to speak. 

One glance at the Radio Demon exposed his game, smile far too sly. He was goading Angel on purpose. 

Angel huffed, pouting then whining when he was tugged forward by the leash. 

“Oh? Do you need a different kind of attention, pet?”

A hand tangled back in his hair, firmer, pulling. It sent shockwaves through his body, mud-covered skirt tenting comically. Angel’s hands balled into fists, reopening the minuscule cuts. He resisted the urge to place his hands on himself, or the hand slowly petting him, by a single thread. 

No matter how much Angel squirmed, Alastor kept the hand pulling the leash taut, the constant pressure intoxicating. His cock twitched with every tug of Alastor’s claws until he was unashamedly nuzzling into his hand. 

While he couldn’t keep moans from falling out his mouth, Angel didn’t say a single word.

“Look at you.”

Alastor did just that, eyes burning a trail down Angel’s heaving body.

“Dirty little thing. But silent, positively obsequious,” he leaned down just as he tugged Angel’s leash, bringing their faces close, “Good pets get rewards, don’t they?”

Angel keened, nodding rapidly. He no longer cared where they were or who could hear them. He ached to be touched, but more than that he wanted Alastor to keep talking. 

To put him in his place.

Keep telling him he was a good boy.

Alastor’s tongue darted over his teeth and he pulled on the leash, choking Angel until his vision started to blur. 

“Unless…” Alastor let every go, leaving Angel to gasp for breath, “Should I take it off? Your complaints earlier were borderline egregious” He clicked his tongue, tilting Angel’s head up by pulling on his hair, “Speak.”

“Fuck, _green!_ -”

Angel’s voice was hoarse, but he was incensed that Alastor would even entertain the notion of stopping. 

He threw his head back, one hand finally leaving the ground to wrap around the leash, tugging it himself.

“ _Harder_.”

A swell of pride rose in Angel’s chest at the sharp screech of radio feedback. His eyes rolled back, body wiggling, openly taunting Alastor as he relished in the victory. 

It didn’t last.

The claws grazing his own were comparable to touching a live wire, causing Angel to let go with a yelp. Alastor’s eyes were almost black when he took back control of the leash. 

He didn’t pull right away, making sure Angel watched as he wrapped it around his hand twice. 

The creak of leather on leather wasn’t something Angel had given a second thought to until that moment. It shot right to the top of his list of kinks. 

“My, my,” Alastor drawled, the timbre of his voice going straight to Angel’s cock, “How about we try a new trick, hm?” 

He pulled once, hard.

“Beg”

“Please, Al- fuck-” 

Angel writhed on the ground, body arching as his leash was tugged with vigor. 

His leg slipped forward, unsteady.

Alastor’s shoe connected with his thigh. Holding him in place. 

Pushing him down. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, _please._ ”

“Good. Such a good boy. Do you think you can stand?” Alastor got up from the bench, offering Angel a hand when only blinked rapidly, “I’m not teasing, we’re about to be discovered.” 

Angel’s brain kicked into gear, letting Al help him to feet. He swayed, not fully out of the headspace, before a familiar weight settled into his arm. 

“Sorry for the change of plan, dearest-” Alastor pulled him close, supporting most of his weight, “-But I’d much rather enjoy you without interruption.” 

They started walking, Alastor’s all but dragging him until they rounded the corner. Angel felt the demon on his arm physically unwind the more distance they put between themselves and the park. 

_Just how close Alastor had let them come to being caught?_

It was a worrying thought until Angel considered he wasn’t the only one who’d been wrapped up in the moment. His heart pounded in time with their quickened pace, the shared eagerness to get back to the hotel driving every step. 

They walked in charged silence, one of Alastor’s hands hovering over the leash clip all the way home. 

Much to Angel’s delight, he was able to remain tethered until they reached the doors of the hotel. It was still early. The likelihood of anyone being awake at this time being slim to none, but they couldn’t take any chances. Alastor opened the door, slipping through silently after signalling Angel to wait.

Which he did, albeit while having to lean against the door with shaky breaths. 

Angel wasn’t sure how he’d react if anyone saw him right now. Or if he’d be able to put on an act, pretending nothing was amiss. Lying was second nature, but he wasn’t himself. Alastor had lulled him into a certain headspace and he felt shaky at best. That, and the combination of being covered in mud and rock hard wasn’t one he could fathom explaining. 

Minutes passed, and Alastor didn’t return. 

Angel was starting to waver. Then, he was floating.

 _Actually_ floating. 

Delicately cradled by an unseen force, Angel was brought through the doors and navigated carefully through the Hotel’s corridors. 

A sensible solution, really. 

Niffty would personally hunt down whoever tracked mud into the hotel, likely discovering more than she bargained for. 

It didn’t stop Angel from having to slap a hand over his mouth, genuine glee spilling out of him in a fit of giggles.

 _Never a dull moment_

By the time he was deposited at Alastor’s door, his body was buzzing with anticipation. He didn’t wait for an invitation, lest someone see him. He crossed the threshold, locking the door behind him, immediately dropping to his knees. 

“Someone’s eager,” Alastor’s voice boomed in comparison to the muted tones he’d used outside, “Come.”

Angel’s cock jumped at the word. He shivered, struck with the realisation of how much of a hold the other demon had over him already. And how he only wanted more. His eyes scanned the darkened room, the flicker of candlelight on the glass of Al’s monocle guiding his way. 

Angel crawled the entire way.

His was shaking, resembling a leaf in the wind by the time he arrived at the Radio Demon’s feet. Angel was struck with a desperate need to feel Alastor’s body against his own, to have his stillness calm his storm. 

The hand wrapping back around his leash surprisingly had the same effect. 

Angel’s mind was flooded with fantasies, most of which involved nothing more than a hand on his collar while he fell apart. He was adapting quickly, craving whatever games Alastor was planning on playing.

And said demon did not disappoint. 

They picked up where they left off in the park; Alastor pulling the leash taught until Angel bent like a bow. His foot connected with Angel’s thigh when he squirmed, only this time it didn’t stop there. The movement was slow but it inched higher, tension building until the toe of his boot connected with Angel’s concealed cock. 

The reaction was instantaneous. 

Angel cried out, bucking up as delicious friction coursed through his body. He almost lost his balance, limbs jerking out only to have his collar pulled. 

“No hands,” Alastor said firmly, eyes flickering with discomfort before his tone turned salacious, “Since my shoes are in the same state you are, it seems only fitting. If you’re agreeable?”

The words were on Angel’s tongue, almost slipping out. He bit his lip hard enough to bleed, huffing through it with a nod. 

_He hadn’t been given permission, had he?_

Angel braced two hands behind him on the floor, wrapping the others together behind his back, whimpering when Alastor visibly relaxed. 

Angel was just as relieved. Half mad with lust, but still with it enough to remember the rules. 

He dispelled any hesitance by reminding himself that if Alastor didn’t want to do this, he had so many other options at his disposal. 

Alastor wanted this.

He wanted Angel falling apart underneath him. 

The thought alone was enough to have Angel whining and pushing his hips off the ground. 

To his delight, Alastor pressed in harder. 

The lace of his panties contrasted perfectly with the solid weight of Alastor’s boot. The material caught on the sensitive skin of Angel’s cock Angel experimentally thrust his hips. It was incredible. A ragged moan fell out Angel’s open mouth as he moved again, chasing the sensation. He would’ve sung to the heavens if the collar wasn’t choking out every other breath.

Suddenly remembering his audience, Angel’s eyes shot upwards, heart pounding when he found a criminally pleased expression. Whether this had been Alastor’s plan all along or not, Angel didn’t care. 

He just didn’t want it to stop.

Hips moving of their own accord, it wasn’t long before Angel was rubbing himself against Alastor’s shoe properly, humping it like a mindless animal. _The thing he’d swore he wasn’t_ Angel’s mind unhelpfully supplied, shivering all over again. His cheeks burned as he relished in the feeling. Humiliation laced with bliss, fuelling every movement of his hips. Angel’s tongue lolled out his mouth, panting heavily whenever Alastor let up on the leash. 

Angel’s movements became more purposeful, aided by the slick glide of his now ruined panties as his cock drooled in its confines. Alastor noticed he was spiralling, spare hand tangling back in Angel’s hair to turn his head upwards. 

“Let’s see if you remember your lessons,” He let the leash go lax, pressing his heel down so Angel got the full length of his shoe against his cock, “Beg”

“I’m so-fuck- _Al_ -” Angel shortcircuited when Alastor’s shoe purposefully slid down his cock, “Can I-hah-can I cum? Please?”

His body was coiling, pleasure mounting-

-and then it stopped. 

“So soon?” Alastor cooed, eyes lidding as the charm was laid on thick, “I’m not quite done playing with you, pet” 

He grinned, tapping Angel’s forehead playfully, “You can wait.”

Angel geared up to start screaming obscenities, quickly silenced by the leash fully constricting his breath. 

The switch killed Angel’s resolve, spluttering and writhing while his whole body tingled. Alastor's foot was barely touching him, all his focus on restricting Angel’s breath. Angel’s cock throbbed and his eyes rolled, another peak rising from that sensation alone. 

Alastor let it go on for a fraction longer than was probably healthy, delight sparkling in vermilion irises. 

He let Angel catch just enough of his breath before starting the whole process again. 

Angel lost track of time balanced on the knife’s edge. Alastor watched him intently, alternating between choking him out and giving his dick enough friction to move against. It was pure, delicious torture. Angel’s face was a mess of tears and drool as he babbled incoherently, body screaming with a need for release that was kept just out of reach. 

“Oh pet, you’re making such a mess-” Alastor pulled on the leash, forcing Angel to look up at him, “So filthy, absolutely, _divine_ ” 

That Angel’s cock pulsed, orgasm approaching imminently with or without the other demon’s permission. In a last-ditch effort, he cried out, using that last shred of willpower to balance on the precipice. 

“Alastor-I’m gonna-please-please- _please_ let me cum. Please!”

“Go ahead-” Alastor’s fingers hooked under his collar, bringing his face closer while his foot kept Angel’s body firmly in place, “-be a good boy. Scream for me.” 

A garbled mess of curses left Angel’s open mouth as he did just that.

He came so hard he saw stars, hips jerking violently against the anchor of Alastor’s shoe, adding to the mess. 

Angel tingled all over, breathing so shallow it made his chest heave as he collapsed on the floor. 

He felt filthy, disgusting even. And he had the biggest smile on his face.

It faded somewhat when Alastor got up and left the room without saying a word. 

_Ah._

Part of Angel shut down.

He, again, had to remind himself that this was exactly what he signed up for. 

He tried his best to ignore how fresh the tears felt on his face, mentally preparing himself to get up and leave.

Until he heard the sound of returning footsteps. 

“Now then. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” 

Angel turned over just in time to see Alastor set a large barrel, filled with steaming hot water next to him on the floor. 

Alastor’s surprising physical strength set aside, Angel was suddenly hit with a wave of long-forgotten nostalgia. 

His family had something similar set up in the corner of their tiny apartment growing up. Hot water was a luxury they couldn’t always afford, and when they did what little they had Angel had to share with his siblings. Much to everyone’s constant complaints, of course. He could almost feel the black eye his older brother constantly gave him ‘accidentally’.

It might be a bit of a squeeze, but Angel was sure he’d be able to fit into the one Alastor had brought. It gave him the incentive to stand, only to have his legs buckle when a pair of arms steadied him from behind. 

“I don’t want you going out there looking anything but your best-” Alastor murmured, voice soft against Angel’s shoulder, “-It would be amiss of me not to do the job myself. If you’d be so kind as to let me?”

A nod was all Angel could manage, and thankfully it was enough. 

“Good, good,” Alastor’s radio crackled back to life, flicking through several channels until it found an unaccompanied piano player, “Remember the rules. Though you’re no longer required to be silent, pet.” 

Angel shuddered. 

Despite his hesitance, he hoped that nickname was staying. 

He didn’t trust himself to talk yet but he stripped himself of his soiled clothes slowly. He bit his lip when Alastor’s fingers came around his body to help unbutton his jacket. Even compared to everything they’d just done, the gesture felt far too intimate. 

Angel removed his shoes and stockings with a wince, standing into the makeshift tub as quickly as he could. He let himself be lowered the rest of the way, heart jackhammering when Alastor left him momentarily to remove his own coat and gloves.

Even more so when he pulled up a chair and started washing off the mud that had snuck through Angel’s clothing.

When fingers tangled in his hair again, Angel was in a heaven of a different kind. 

His eyes slowly slipped shut, lulled by the sounds of splashing water and the melancholic ivories. 

And the demon behind him humming along softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come kink-shame me on [ Nsfw Twitter](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon) _dabs_
> 
> Joking aside- SSN note of the chapter is there's a difference between soft limits (here) and hard ones. Irl, talk longer if you're gonna be pushing anything. Also, don't leave your sub alone in drop- either after or during! 
> 
> I fully blame [ Kyaap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyaappucino/pseuds/kyaappucino) for that ending, I've been listening to a certain piano piece on repeat while I was editing.
> 
> Comments/kudos/yelling all super appreciated! <3


	9. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo yo yo! It's update time!
> 
> Just a warning. I'm separating the tags and the triggers as this chapter touches on heavier topics so I'd really like to over rather than underwarn.
> 
> Tw: Gaslighting/emotional abuse, body dysmorphia, disordered eating (unspecified), negative self-image. 
> 
> Tags: Jealousy, Cathartic bdsm, rope bondage, knife play, blood play, scarification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Even at my ugliest, you always say, I'm beautiful_  
>  _As you tear me to pieces_  
>  Sick Like Me- In This Moment

Angel pressed his face against the glass, steaming it up with his breath. He watched several droplets fall on the pane separately, merging on the way down. 

For something so simple, it stirred things in him he’d long thought he’d forgotten. 

Back when he was alive, he hardly had a moment to himself. Between a huge family and the tangled webs of criminal activity, he’d always been surrounded by someones. Or someones his someones knew. 

Angel hated it at the time. Eyes watching your every move was an unpleasant experience for anyone, but doubly so when you had so much to hide. And lose, if your ‘lifestyle choices’ were discovered. 

He knew what loneliness was, and how you could feel it even in a room full of people. It took dying for him to truly understand what it meant to be alone. 

And that’s exactly how he felt today.

The stupidest thing was Angel had no fucking right to feel this way. He’d been clean for weeks, most stable he’d been in decades, and had a roof over his head that he didn’t have to suck a dick for. 

He even had Alastor.

_Kinda._

Regardless of the technicalities the last week had been equal parts eye-opening, hotter than a trip to the 7th ring, and surprisingly fun. 

But today was different. 

For one, Angel had hardly seen Alastor at all yesterday. Which was fine. Al had a lot of overlord-y stuff to do and it wasn’t like their agreement called for living in each other’s pockets. And his well-marked ass thanked him for the break. But it had made him feel off, like a spare part, and that feeling had rolled into this morning when a sudden downpour had cancelled their walk.

At least, that’s what Angel thought happened. He’d woken up to a note slid under his door about a rain check and he didn’t put it past Alastor to mean that literally. It was one of those times where Angel wished the bastard had a phone so he could text to check, but alas. 

Instead of sulking, he’d taken the opportunity to do some admin himself. He sent Val’s money over early, accompanied by a string of lies about how hard he was hustling. He added a few lines about how much he missed him, couldn’t wait to see him, that nothing compared to riding his dick. All the stuff he knew Val loved to hear. Angel’s first mistake of the day had been attaching a picture to go along with that spiel. Nothing overly explicit, despite Val’s usual preferences, but enough to be considered erotic. Tasteful. 

It backfired _spectacularly._

As soon as Angel hit send he was filled with regret. Sending pics to Val was ingrained in him, automatic. That didn’t mean it didn’t feel wrong. He tried to put it down to the need to keep up the charade, so Val thought he was still interested and didn’t come looking. 

It was more than that, and he knew it. 

Angel’s constant checking of his phone spoke volumes of his real motives. Part of him was seeking attention. The Validation. While not a sin in itself, it definitely filled him with the same guilt. 

What he received in return served him right.

A throwaway comment. Something about how Angel’s underwear was digging into his side followed by a nauseous emoji. Angel hovered over his keyboard for several seconds, wanting to ask if Val had made a mistake. He broke before sending, jumping out of bed to scrutinise his reflection, fixating on every little flaw until he’d confirmed the obvious.

He was putting on weight. Or, at least, he looked like he was. Which was worse. 

Angel had gone straight to scales. He’d spent the good part of an hour standing on and off them, getting more frustrated when it blinked with the same number as usual. When he was rudely ejected from the bathroom, Angel stomped his way downstairs towards the bar, trying to figure out why things weren’t adding up. Had he bulked up unintentionally with all the dancing he’d been doing? Or maybe he wasn’t doing enough? Or maybe the lack of drugs made him look fuller?

He’d just settled on the scales being broken and him being at least double the number when he noticed everyone was staring at him. Without thinking he’d poured himself a drink, a large one at that. It wasn’t even midday. 

A few words were exchanged. Charlie was concerned, Vaggie was pissed. Husk wanted them to stop yelling while he nursed a hangover. Angel hadn’t even got to take a sip when his glass was hurtled towards the nearest wall. 

By his own hand. 

Angel didn’t stick around to deal with the fallout either. He promptly stormed off before anyone had chance to tell him how much of a fuck up he was. 

Which was how he’d got here. Bundled up on a windowsill, chain-smoking his way through his last packet of cigarettes while he watched the rain.

He made a mental note to get Niffty something nice when he had to venture out for more.

Once he got over the fact he couldn’t even get his phone to pick up his favourite station. 

Angel was lighting up again when he heard the sound of clinking porcelain and lightly approaching footsteps. He wiped his face with the back of his arm, mentally preparing himself to deal with Charlie’s sympathetic smile, Vaggie’s glare, or Niffty’s misplaced optimism. 

Husk’s scowl was surprising.

“They sent me up with a peace offerin’” He grumbled, approaching slowly, “None of the gals want to deal with third-degree burns.” 

Angel was confused until he spotted the cup in Husk’s hand. 

Tea. _Great._

Angel wanted nothing more than to fold in on himself and have the ground swallow him but he settled on extending a single hand while he curled his legs to his chest. The cup was frustratingly warm in his grasp, and when he brought it closer to his body he could feel some of the tremors in his arms being soothed. Husk hovered, ready to bolt, until Angel took his first sip. 

Both of them sighed in relief. 

“Thanks,” Angel murmured, ignoring the twisting in his chest, “Sorry ‘bout wasting your whiskey.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

With a few more moments of hesitation, Husk took a seat on the opposite side of the window. Just like Angel, he followed a few fresh droplets down the glass.

Husk spoke first. 

“I’ve tried kickin’ the habit once. Made me even more of an asshole. It’s tough.” 

Angel bit down more guilt, “Yeah.”

Thankfully Husk didn’t push for more. Angel sipped his tea and Husk leant his head on the wall while they watched the ebb and flow of rainfall. 

While Angel appreciated the gesture, the sound of light snoring broke the illusion. That or Husk was purring. While it was adorable, and something he’d never let the other demon live down, Angel nudged him awake with his foot. 

Husk blinked himself awake, spotting Angel’s empty cup as his cue to leave. 

“Anything else I can get ya?” Husk stretched as he stood, something unreadable passing over his face before his lips twitched up in a smile, “Or anyone?”

 _How!?_

Angel’s blood ran cold as he tried not to let the panic show.

Out of everyone Husk had been around him and Al the most. He’d made a few throwaway comments whenever they got a bit too close, but nothing more. 

Angel had put that down to the fact their flirty banter was pretty insufferable. 

But the longer he took to answer the more fuel he added to the fire. 

“Na, I’m good,” Angel winked, “Don’t need no one, baby. I make my own fun.”

“That so-” Husk’s smirk was growing at an alarming rate, “So, how ya been finding that book?”

“What bo-”

The penny dropped.

“Oh, that book- the one you- I haven’t- but I’m gonna. Soon.” 

Husk cackled. 

_Shit._

Angel's cheeks burned as he looked away, completely called out. He scrambled, trying to think of an excuse or way to explain himself without mentioning the whole deal debacle. 

Or the marks he was definitely not shifting his clothes to try and hide. 

Maybe he could get away with saying they were long-lost family members to explain the sudden closeness?

Bile was rising in his throat at the thought. 

Maybe not. 

Luckily, Angel didn’t have to go down any of those routes. 

“Don’t worry about it, Legs,” Husk’s laughter died down, tone shifting,“ But Al _will_ get on your case about it. That guy’s relentless when he’s got the bit between his teeth. Trust me on that.” 

That was… weirdly specific. 

It was unclear exactly what Husk was hinting at, but Angel felt comforted that he wasn’t gonna call him out. There was some kinda solidarity there, even if he couldn’t put his finger on _why._

Angel sighed, resigning to the fact he definitely hadn’t heard the end of this, “Thanks.”

Husk left him with a curt nod, making his way back down the hall.

Angel tucked his legs under his chin with a loud huff, skin itching. 

Whatever Husk was hinting at, there was something more to his and Al’s history that they weren’t telling.

The twinge of jealousy was unwelcome, but not unexpected. Hypocritical too. Still, Angel planned to bring up that line of questions as subtly as he could whenever he got the opportunity. 

_If Al ever wanted to see him again_. 

Angel screwed his eyes shut, groaning into the empty hallway. He knew he had some deep-seated issues he was making a point of ignoring, but the constant monologue of self-pity was really getting on his last fucking nerve

Which he supposed was a good thing, in its own fucked up way. At least he wasn’t taking everything that voice said as fact anymore. 

Angel pulled out his phone and flicked through his notifications, swiping Val’s reply away. He’d seen enough from the little preview, something about him being sorry that Angel was so sensitive. 

A small part of him warned against ignoring his boss at all, but another piped up about it being in character. Angel _did_ have a habit of blowing things outta proportion, Val told him as much, but if he was in one of his bad moods-

Angel’s thumb hovered over the message application, wavering, until a crackle of static made his heart stutter. 

“There you are!” 

Alastor’s voice was loud enough to make the window vibrate, surrounding Angel from all sides. 

He grinned like an idiot as the other demon approached him, smile spreading further when Alastor took up his hand and planted a chaste kiss on his knuckles. 

Angel didn’t care that it was all part of the Radio demon’s act, or that his internal voice was screaming at him to calm down.

He needed this, reality be damned. 

“Apologies for earlier, Angel, I’ve been quite tied up!” Alastor’s head twitched sideways, “And not in the way you enjoy!” 

Angel laughed, “-Ya learnin!”

Alastor looked genuinely pleased, eyes sparkling. It took everything Angel had to ignore the urge to pull him closer, but he managed.

It wasn’t the thought of it not ending well that stopped him, surprisingly. He felt physically sick thinking about making Alastor do something he didn’t want to. 

He really was going soft. 

“-It’s ok, Al. I know you’re a busy guy.”

“Oh, exceptionally. I’ve only just seen the time, I haven’t eaten a bite since this morning-” He pulled Angel to his feet with a little twirl for good measure, “How about we rustle up some grub before anything else, hm?”

Angel’s stomach lurched. 

“Not hungry.” He snatched his hand back, arms folding over his waist, “Gotta watch my figure”

Alastor either didn’t pick up on the unsubtle hint, or ignored it altogether, “What was that, Angel?”

“I said I’m getting fat,” Angel snapped, a lot louder than he intended to, “Skipping lunch s’good idea. Ya want me t’ be pretty for ya, right?” 

Something dark passed over Alastor’s expression. The feedback on the radio was erratic, but it wasn’t like when Angel had heard it before. 

It was sharp. Violent even.

“What’s brought this on?” 

He spoke in monotone, the lack of cadence far more chilling than if he was screaming.

Angel doubled down in closing off, even as fresh tears formed in his sockets. 

Alastor wasn’t giving up. 

“ _Angel._ ”

“I-I” Angel averted his eyes, fear crawling up his spine, “I was doing some uh- damage control I really shouldn’t have but I didn’t want-” he cringed, already fed up with his own excuses, “Well I sent a pic, to Val, and he pointed out I’m getting bigger- and I shouldn’t-”

He trailed off.

Sending Val pictures wasn’t breaking any of their rules, but it sure felt it with the way Alastor’s face scrunched up at the mention of his name. They’d never explicitly talked about Angel’s relationship with Val in any other light than the one he had as Angel’s boss. 

And even then the most Alastor got to acknowledging it was their monetary arrangement. 

Angel waited for the inevitable. 

The scolding, the withdrawal, the lashing out.

Calling it off altogether.

_He fucking deserved every-_

“You’re going to listen to that creature’s opinion?”

Angel blinked rapidly. Alastor was obviously pissed, but it wasn’t directed _at_ him. Even though it definitely should be. Unsure of how to cope, Angel was floundering.

“Well, yeah. It’s his job t’ make sure his bitches lookin’ our best y’know?” His words weren’t his own, but he still forced the smile on his face, “Ain’t no-one want a hazbin washup, right? Heh heh”

“Do you not think this is another tactic to undermine you?” 

Angel’s eyes went wide, “Well, yeah-”

“Pay it no attention, darling.” Alastor beamed, usual flair returning by the second, “Envy is one of the uglier sins. Capable of turning any man into a beast,” there was a beat where his eyes flickered, grin wavering, “A covetous one at that.” 

The words weighed heavy between them, air charged with things that had no right being there. 

Alastor was being kind. Uncharacteristically kind. 

He reached up to touch Angel’s cheek when another tear threatened to fall.

It made Angel’s soul ache.

His perspective on Alastor was constantly shifting, he knew the other demon was still toying with him for his own amusement. But if that amusement was currently being found by being a decent guy, for whatever reason, he was going to take it.

Even if it hurt him in the long run. 

He was suddenly all too aware that their little pocket of solitude could easily be interrupted. Especially if Husk had mentioned Angel was doing better. 

The illusion frayed at the seams. 

Angel needed to get out of there. 

A mental map of the route to his bedroom flashed in his mind, planning his escape route. Intending on locking himself away to cry out all the emotions he was struggling to suppress. 

But he hesitated. 

Despite the fear of slipping, he didn’t want to be alone. 

“Do you think we could go upstairs?”Angel asked, biting his lip before he realised how that sounded, “It’s not-I don’t want to- I just-” He took in a deep breath, letting control slip and surprising himself with what fell out his mouth next, “I need- I need to feel something else.”

“Of course,” Alastor replied, his thumb soothing down Angel’s face before he dug in one of his gloved claws. 

Angel couldn’t help it.  
He whimpered as desire and longing flitted through his body, momentarily overriding everything else. 

Alastor seemed pleased, lacing their fingers together as he pulled him to his feet, all but running through the halls. 

It was such a small gesture, but Angel had never been more thankful that Alastor insisted on wearing gloves almost constantly. His own hands were embarrassingly clammy by the time they reached Alastor’s door. 

Once inside they let go, anticipation bubbling in Angel’s chest as Alastor went to the desk that currently housed all his implements. 

He didn’t care what Al chose today, as long as it made him scream. 

“Perhaps-” Alastor mused, the tips of his claws trailing over the desk with the same finesse he used when they were on Angel, “We try something with a little more precision today?” 

He picked up a knife. Long and _sharp_. Both of them admiring how the blade reflected the candlelight.

“The marks will last longer. If we were alive, they’d be permanent-” He turned to Angel, eyes lidded, “-but I dare say they will have almost faded when our time is up.” 

Oh, how Angel had dreamt of this moment. 

While he’d enjoyed every second at the end of a whip or a flogger, the set of knives Alastor owned had been taunting him for days. It was probably several shades of insanity to feel _special_ about getting to experience the receiving end of the Radio demon’s blade, but he didn’t care. 

“Yeah I’m-” Angel paused, correcting his enthusiasm, “Yes, Alastor.” 

Alastor looked genuinely ecstatic. He collected a few other tools; including a white, embossed napkin Angel had admired previously. Anticipation was rolling through him in waves, making him hard embarrassingly quickly.

Alastor could bleed him dry right under everyone’s noses and they’d never know a thing. 

Angel knew he wouldn’t, he was almost certain, and that was as tantalising as the threat of danger. It was shaky logic, at best, but Angel was past trying to judge himself for what he was into. Not when he had a million other reasons to hate himself. 

Somehow, in Alastor’s hands, none of that seemed to matter. 

“This will take a while, you’ll need to be comfortable. How about-” Alastor moved to the bed, taking a seat while propping several pillows around himself, “If I sit here you’ll be well supported and I’ll be able to focus on my work.” 

Angel almost jumped at the opportunity, flinching at the last second, “Are you gonna be ok with that?”

“I should be.” Alastor answered stiffly before mischief flickered over his features, “If you’re able to keep your hands to yourself, and _keep still-_ ” He tilted his head, far too smug, “Do you need restraining, pet?”

Angel’s heart skipped several beats at once. 

“Hmmm, maybe I do,” he teased, batting his lashes as he approached the bed, “You wanna do the honors?”

Alastor’s smirk turned wicked, “Strip.” 

Not needing to be told twice, Angel did just that. He was doing a pretty good job of it until Alastor reached under the bed to retrieve a length of rope. This wasn’t its usual resting place, meaning the bastard had put it there with the intent to fluster him. 

It worked. 

Angel tripped over his socks, only just managing to steady himself before he fell flat on his face. He glared over his shoulder at the titer of laughter, removing the rest of his clothes, hesitating when he reached his underwear. 

Alastor nodded, and he gingerly stepped out, hands itching to hide himself. 

He didn’t. 

He knew how much Alastor revelled in his shame.

Today, Angel had that in heaps. He approached the bed slowly, keeping his eyes downcast until he was knelt facing away from the other demon. He worried on his lip until he felt the midpoint of rope being wrapped around his waist. Alastor worked in silence, intricately weaving the ends into intricate knots around Angel’s arms until they were completely immobilised. 

Angel felt inexplicably safe. 

Alastor tugged on the rope to check the tension and Angel hissed through his teeth. 

He waited to be prompted, standing on shaking legs before turning back to the bed. He knew hesitance wouldn’t help, but laying in Alastor’s lap felt like a line he wasn’t sure they were ready to cross. Naked at that. He ignored the sharp inhale of breath from the other demon when he knelt at his side, holding his own until Alastor’s hand tangled in the rope. He lowered Angel into his lap, both of them flinching when Angel’s cock was pressed into his thigh. 

_No going back now._

Angel worried on his lip again, finding it hard not to rock his hips against the soft material of Alastor’s pants. Especially considering their owner wasn’t quite unmoving himself. The sounds of the radio rapidly flickering sending Angel’s imagination _wild._ He used every scrap of self-control he had left to keep himself grounded. 

One wrong move would mean making friends with the floor. 

Alastor eventually trailed his hand down Angel’s back, breathing steadier, before reaching for the knife. 

“Darling, you must lie very still or this won’t work-” Alastor ran the tip of the blade along the rope, teasing, “-If you experience any feelings of numbness, you are to inform me immediately. understood?”

Angel nodded, and they began.

The first kiss of the blade against his skin made him gasp, morphing into a breathy moan as a long line was cut down his flank. 

Alastor paused while Angel caught his breath, giving his mind a chance to catch up.

He’d expected it to hurt, but it felt so unlike any implement Alastor had used on him before. 

Or anyone for that matter. 

He’d been in a fair few knife fights since coming to hell, but that didn’t even come _close._

By the time Alastor was moving the blade to make the second incision Angel was already craving the sensation again. 

Alastor didn’t let up after that. His incisions were slow, precise, covering Angel in marks from the bottom of his ribs to the top of his legs. A practiced hand enjoying every second of his craft. 

Angel was right there with him. It hurt. It hurt so much it made fresh tears prick at his already reddened sockets. But fuck, did it feel good. Alastor kept him guessing, each cut in a different spot with varying pressure.  
It dawned on Angel that he was making a pattern.

All this was starkly contrasted with each gentle brush of Alastor’s handkerchief and Alastor’s body pressing into him from all sides. Angel strained against the ropes, cock sliding against the sinfully soft slacks. He was sure he was going to be lectured when they were done about the growing wet patch on the other demon’s pants but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not when something could make him feel like _this_.

Through it all, Angel never quite caught his breath. His shallow whimpers turning into drawn-out moans the more he anticipated the feeling of the blade slicing into his flesh. Without a way to hide his noises, he slowly moved his head against a nearby pillow until he could bite down. He released a muffled scream on a particularly long cut, still shaking when Alastor abruptly removed the blade. 

“Ah, Ah. Angel-” He chided, moving the pillow just out of Angel’s reach, “I want to hear you. Your sonorous melody, my guide.” 

The flat side of the knife down Angel’s back, cold steel smearing his blood.

“Be a dear and sing for me?”

Alastor’s blade sliced down the curve of his ass and Angel _screamed_. 

Once he started, he couldn’t stop. 

He squealed himself hoarse, each cut only adding to the mounting pressure threatening to break him. 

Only when he felt the bed underneath his cheeks becoming soaked did he realise what was happening. 

He was crying. 

Not soft tears from overstimulation, but full-body sobs that made him shake. The knife left his back completely, and that only made things worse. Angel wailed, burying his face into the bed as emotion overwhelmed him. 

“That’s it,” Alastor murmured, hand returning to Angel’s back, “Don’t hold back.” 

“Sorry, I-I can’t-” _can’t keep still, can’t stop crying, can’t make it right._ “It hurts.” 

The words hung heavy, nothing to do with the blood trickling down his side. He wailed again, more shame coursing through him, unable to rebuild the damn inside him that lay in ruins.  
Alastor didn’t interrupt him, didn’t tell Angel he was making a show of himself or anything similar. 

He let Angel cry, hand never leaving, until the tears slowed to a trickle.

“You’ve done so well, Darling.” 

Alastor’s voice was soft, softer than Angel had ever heard it, but undeniably _his_. It soothed Angel right down to his core. 

“You’ve been so good for me, It’s nearly finished-” his breathing hitched as he ran a claw across a deep cut near Angel’s hip bone, “Can you manage a little more?” 

Angel whimpered, not needing to think of his answer, “Yes, Alastor.” 

The first cut this time was light, testing Angel’s tolerance. Angel shivered, a soft whimper escaping his lips.

Alastor finished the cut and waited, giving Angel the chance to back out.

The answer was unspoken, but clear.

Angel panted softly, willing himself as still as possible as Alastor worked. He’d lost any arousal with the unexpected outpour, but that didn’t stop his whole body tingling as the blade flew over his body. He let that feeling consume him while Alastor added the finishing touches. Everything was fuzzy when the blade was placed on the bed next to him, with Angel only vaguely registering Alastor’s claws lightly grazing over his cuts.

When a few moments passed, and Alastor hadn’t stopped touching him, Angel suddenly felt far more awake. 

“Blood stains your fur so perfectly-” Alastor pressed a finger into one of the cuts, voice hitching with the smallest little gasp, “-crimson splashes in a bed of snow.”

Alastor’s voice was barely above a murmur, words spoken more to himself with Angel as an incidental audience. 

That soon changed. 

Alastor’s claws dug into the side of Angel’s body he left unmarked, making him arch with a drawn-out moan. 

“Beautiful.”

Angel felt all the blood previously pouring out of him shoot upwards, flushing his face. 

"Keep that up and I’ll start thinking you like me,” He said with a forced laugh. 

“Would that be so terrible?”

Angel couldn’t breathe.

He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , read into it, but it had rendered him speechless. 

Alastor took the choked silence as an excuse to run his hand up Angel’s back again, tantalisingly close to the cuts. 

Satisfied, he sighed deeply. 

Then he was drumming his fingers on Angel’s arms like hadn’t a care in the world.

Like Angel wasn’t naked and bleeding in his lap. 

Angel briefly wondered if he knew any quacks that specialised in whiplash down here. 

“Now, how about we get you on your feet to take a look,” Alastor offered as he helped Angel upright, jumping up to stretch his legs before adding, “Do you require steadying?”

 _In more ways than one_ Angel thought, mouth wired shut.

He nodded. 

He let Alastor lead him towards a particularly ornate armoire, rolling his eyes when he paraded in front of it like a magician. 

It was frustratingly endearing, threatening to make Angel forget why he’d been so embarrassed mere seconds ago. 

Everything else was rendered inconsequential when Alastor opened the doors and unveiled the mirror, and Angel to himself. 

Breathtaking didn’t do it justice, but Angel had the air sucked out of him all the same.

For starters, Alastor had woven the rope in an intricate tie that resembled a spider’s web. 

An oddly sweet addition, unfortunately overshadowed by the absolute masterpiece lower down his body. 

Angel had been expecting a pattern, but this was a work of art.

Alastor had etched an intricate design into his skin, swirling loops surrounding delicate flowers in various states of bloom. At the center, hovering over his hip, was a literal blood-red rose. 

“I noticed your delight at seeing them in the park, as good a start as any in my opinion-” Alastor offered, coming to stand next to Angel, “Though some elements of the design were improvised.” 

Tears flowed unchecked down Angel’s face as Alastor ushered forward for a closer look. He was watching Angel’s reflection intently, tips of his ears rapidly twitching. The only sign he was just as invested in the result as his counterpart. 

“Can I keep it?” Angel blurted out, meeting Alastor’s eyes in the mirror, “I know you said it’s gonna fade but it’s so-” his heart jumped up to his throat when his eyes skimmed downwards, over a series of swirls that looked like the other demon’s name, “ _Beautiful._ ”

The look on Alastor’s face was one Angel hadn’t seen before, but one he immediately recognised. 

_Pride_.

“Not this one I’m afraid, dear,” He said, sounding just as disappointed as Angel felt, “I do believe there are ways. We can discuss a permanent design at length another time, but for now, let’s get you unbound and cleaned up.”

Placated, for now, Angel turned.

Alastor unravelled the rope around Angel’s arms just as skillfully as he’d tied them up, only complaining once about the inevitable splatter of blood that had sunk into the fibers. 

He mentioned something about it meaning he could only use it on Angel from now on. Said demon didn’t even try to hide his smile. 

Angel took the time to stretch the aches out his arms as Alastor fetched a bowl of water from the sideboard, saying something inaudible until steam rose over the rim. He removed his blood-stained gloves, pulling a replacement pair out of his pocket. He wiggled his fingers when he caught Angel watching, prompting a full-blown snort when he tried to contain his laughter. 

A more comfortable silence settled over the room while Alastor soothed the cloth across Angel’s wounds. It was surprising how little it hurt. Like Alastor mentioned, these kinds of cuts would be permanent on earth. Hell’s rapid healing meant the wounds were already clotting. Angel had never considered fast healing anything but a blessing. Until today. He let Alastor fuss over him all the same, only noticing his hesitancy when the water turned cold. 

“After something so intense, you _will_ need to eat, Angel,” Alastor said, gently pushing the bowl just out of Angel’s reach, “I know just the thing! Wait here I’ll-”

“No, let me.” Angel interrupted, “I’ll make you something good, promise.” 

He sighed, adding a soft, “Please.” 

Alastor’s relief was hard to miss when shone from his face like a beacon. 

“If you insist,” He teased, “But I’ll be accompanying you.” 

Angel was promptly reminded of his earlier encounter, “But what if someone sees us. Together.” 

“You’re a resident of this hotel, are you not?” Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose in pure exasperation, “We’re allowed to cohabit the same room. Especially if that room is, in fact, the kitchen.” 

There was no arguing with that.

At least, not unless Angel was prepared to explain that a certain bartender knew more than he was letting on. 

He redressed with a little help from Alastor, leading the way to the kitchen after checking the coast was clear. Niffty was the only one down when they came. She didn’t make any accusations or assumptions, more concerned with the mess Angel tended to make when he was let loose in the kitchen unsupervised. Alastor promised to make sure he left everywhere spotless, or he’d clean it himself. Expertly sidestepping any building rage, Niffty went happily humming on her way. 

Leaving them alone. Together. 

Angel was the talkative one today. Unable to make his mind up on what to cook for Alastor, he decided to make several of his favourite dishes to share between them. 

Alastor protested about the effort, at first, until Angel started listing off the cured meats they had available. 

And with each dish Alastor got a story, completely free of charge. 

They ate together at the counter, Angel taking Alastor’s lead when he slid in the seat next to him. He let Angel decide what dishes to try first, even going so far as to let Angel feed him.

It was meant to be once, but he kept opening his mouth when Angel brought a laden fork towards it.  
In exchange Alastor would occasionally run his finger’s down Angel’s side, eyes sparkling with delight when he was able to make Angel stumble over his words. 

It felt natural when Alastor led him back to the bedroom, the touches on his wounds more insistent with every step. 

Shadows loomed heavy in the room as Angel fell onto the bed, pinning him down while their proxy soothed his hair. Smokey limbs caressed every inch of his body, pleasure overwhelming him completely as he finally made good on Alastor’s request.

Angel sang his heart out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This one was a little heavier so I hope you're all good <3
> 
> A note on the topics discussed re: gaslighting/ED - I hope coming from personal experience it came across respectfully and well, but please take care of yourself if anything also hit close to home. 
> 
> We're here with the notes again to say that scarification has a long, interesting history that predates it being used in secular/bdsm cultures but it can also go REALLY WRONG. I can't recommend it irl personally, but please research it heavily if you're considering it!!
> 
> I'm also on [ Nsfw Twitter](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon) _dabs_


	10. Lurk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Welcome back.
> 
> Ngl, these kinks aren't for everyone! Check the tags and exit out if that's the case, pleaseee don't hate read if it's not for you!
> 
> Tags: Religion, sacrilegious acts, outfit kink, public play, sex toys, don't get caught kink. 
> 
> Also art is coming for this chapter. It'll be posted to twitter and linked in the end notes :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I fuck 'cause I need to_  
>  _I fuck when I want_  
>  _I'll fuck you in love_  
>  _Even though it is not_  
>  Lurk- The Neighbourhood

Angel was going to explode. 

He bit back a huff, trying to figure out if he had good enough aim to throw his phone at the Radio demon’s smug face.

He resisted the urge by the skin of his teeth. 

Whatever game Alastor was playing, Angel wasn’t losing. Not today. 

He’d been minding his own business, laying on Alastor’s bed while scrolling through a particular blog on his phone. An increasingly common sight now the Radio Demon had given him a key to his room and told Angel he could come and go as he pleased. 

As long as no one saw him. 

Angel had come early today, intent on hiding away to avoid the increased activity downstairs. This week’s game night had somehow morphed into an open night for the hotel, in an effort to attract more guests. He usually wouldn’t be able to get off so easily, but Princess had no choice but to make an exception. 

When you’re expected to be the star attraction, to drone on about how well you’re doing and how you’re on your way to redemption, you earn a bit of leeway. 

Alastor had returned at some point, making no comment as to Angel’s already being on his bed.

He’d made no comments at all, come to think of it.

He’d taken a seat in his favourite chair to read a book, humming softly and bouncing his leg. Seemingly taking no notice of Angel at all. 

Angel had a real knack for missing red flags until way after the fact. That was the first one. 

The next was that damn radio. He should have known Alastor was up to something the second that song started playing.

Over the past month, Angel had made it a bit of a game to figure out what mood Alastor was in based on what type of music he was playing. For someone so guarded with his emotions, he gave a lot away if you knew what to look for. Or Alastor’s case, listen for. Jazz when he was happy, big band numbers when he was showing off. Crooners when he thought no one else was listening. 

The old ragtime ditties were reserved for when he was in a particularly mischievous mood. 

As soon as he heard the sound of the jaunty first bars, Angel’s nerves were set on edge. 

Coincidentally, that’s also when he spotted the otherwise innocuous brown paper bag. 

Flag number three. 

It was set on the table next to Alastor’s chair looking completely out of place. Even from his upside-down vantage point, Angel could see it was full to the brim with _something_. 

Alastor must’ve been watching him carefully because as soon Angel noticed it he popped down his book and started fishing out its contents. 

That’s when things went from intriguing to captivating. 

The first item was fabric, possibly a dress. Far drabber than anything Alastor usually picked, so maybe not. Angel had placed his phone on the bed, turned the right way up, and cleared his throat loudly. Alastor ignored him, pulling more things from the brown paper bag. 

Which was how Angel ended up with rapidly fraying nerves. Phone back in his hand, pretending to be engrossed in the blog despite all his attention focused on trying to figure out what the fuck Alastor was playing at. 

So far Angel had seen that shapeless grey fabric, something white, and what looked to be a pair of nylon stockings.

So it was definitely for Angel. 

Unless Alastor was holding out on him. The Radio Demon in drag was something Angel would definitely pay to see. 

Still, Angel was trying his best to act disinterested. Pointless, of course. The bastard hadn’t so much as acknowledged Angel’s existence, but his growing smirk told Angel everything he needed to know. 

Well, Alastor had another thing coming if he thought this was all it took to break Angel. Curiosity wasn’t gonna kill the cat with far more stubbornness than sense. Angel didn’t need to know he didn’t even care-

_Was that a fucking cross?_

“What you got there, Al?”

The smirk grew and Angel resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. 

“Why Angel, I thought you’d never ask!” Alastor beamed, the music growing louder as he unravelled the mysterious grey fabric, “This is your outfit for tonight, my dear.” 

Everything in Angel’s head screeched to a grinding halt. 

In Alastor’s claws was something that haunted Angel from his childhood. He was immediately assaulted with visions of stern faces peering down at him from their ivory-white frames. The ridiculous rules, mind-numbing rituals, and the disappointment when Angel broke them. Not to mention the punishment. It was a uniform that had no place in hell, especially not in the hands of the fucking Radio Demon.

And he wanted Angel to wear it.

Tonight.

In front of everyone.

_Fuck no!_

“It’s not- we’re not hosting a costume party,” Angel spat through gritted teeth, “I’m not dressing up as a fucking _nun_.”

"Correct!" Alastor sprung to his feet, walking over to place the habit in Angel’s lap, "This particular cloth belongs to a postulant. You’re playing the part of a reformed sinner taking their first steps on their righteous path, are you not? " 

Despite his irritation, Angel’s face was burning. Alastor’s voice was smoother than silk, words were dripping with sin. 

Ironic didn’t cover it.

Nor did it explain how fucking turned on Angel was already. 

He opened and closed his mouth several times, looking for a leg to stand on. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done the whole sexy nun thing to death in Val’s films, so there was no hope there. But this felt so different. 

The outfit looked far too close to the real thing. 

Knowing Alastor, it probably _was_.

“You’re delusional.” 

Angel huffed, trying not to get more worked up as he held the tunic against his body.

“Why’d ya want me to wear it anyway? Aint exactly pretty-” He looked down, frowning as he imagined himself in the shapeless garment, “It’s a fucking tent.”

“I thought it would be apt, considering your upbringing-” Alastor winked, “I can imagine how frustrating it was to have this particular lifestyle completely out of reach.”

Angel didn’t catch his squeak in time, much to Alastor’s amusement. 

Alastor was right. He’d grown up fearing the nuns at his school, but when some of his peers started down that path he’d been struck with misplaced longing. The life of abstinence wasn’t for him, obviously, but he coveted the attention. The admiration. 

Or, at the very least, the opportunities to get closer to the particular priest he had the hots for. 

“But whatever shall you wear underneath?”

Angel perked up further when the rest of the bag's contents was dumped on his lap. The first thing he noticed was blood-red lace, not dissimilar to the material of the collar he wore at every opportunity. Beautiful, but the bundle was suspiciously heavy. Angel gently unravelled the basque to find something familiar nestled inside. 

One of Angel’s plugs. Dark, thick, and flared and the base. 

The fucking _vibrating_ one. 

“I hope you don’t mind borrowing from your collection.” Alastor was practically glowing with excitement as he waved the toy in front of Angel’s face, “I thought something familiar would be less intimidating.” 

He set it down on the bed next to Angel with a contented sigh, claw slowly trailing over the forgotten lingerie, 

“I hope you don't mind me picking these out for you, since we’ve established that red is your colour.” 

Despite the fact it was healing, the rose on Angel’s hip started to sting. 

Like he wasn’t in enough trouble already. 

He tried to keep his breathing steady, but his mind was pure panic. He was irrationally hung up on this, the whole situation resurrecting a long-forgotten superstition.

“Al I can’t it’s-it’s not-” 

Angel scrambled for the words, none of which felt enough. 

Nor did they explain why he was already half hard. 

He switched tactics.

“I can’t just show up like this with no explanation! What would Charlie think? And I can’t spend the whole night with a fucking vibrator in me-I-” He cringed, flushing even further, “I won’t last.” 

“If anyone dares question your motives, you reassure them of your commitment” Alastor tapped Angel on his forehead, much to the other demon’s annoyance, “No one will argue with that, as misguided as your attempts to show it might be.” 

The music stopped. 

“Your other problem will certainly be difficult to manage. I’m counting on it, as a matter of fact.” 

Alastor licked his teeth just as the last of Angel’s willpower started to crumble. He scrunched the rough fabric in his hands, paralysed between budding desire and the very real threat of public humiliation. Even if he pulled off hiding a vibrator inside him, his reputation was going to take a very real hit in this get-up.

A few weeks ago Angel would have laughed at the idea, telling Alastor just where he could stick the whole outfit. Vibrator included. 

But things were different now, as much as he wanted to pretend they weren’t. 

Angel was ready to forget himself, and his standards, all because of who was asking. 

Alastor played his trump card. 

“I expected that you’d need a little extra persuading-” He purred, stroking Angel’s face in the way that always made him melt,“-So I took the time to procure this.”

_Holy fucking shit._

Angel was surprised he didn’t dislocate his jaw when Alastor loosened his tie, revealing the thin strip of white hidden underneath. 

He whined, trying to process the sight of Alastor wearing a fucking dog collar. To no avail. 

All the blood in his body was currently heading south. 

“How did you-where did you find-What are you-” Angel spluttered, settling on the question that bothered him the most, “Why does it _suit you?_ "

Alastor laughed, “You’re too kind.”

He turned on the spot, showing off and soaking up the attention. His smirk never faltered and Angel was practically salivating.

“Such a simple thing, I half expected to incarnate the moment I laid hands on it,” He raised his brows, moving to loom over Angel, “What a pity that would have been, I’m quite looking forward to playing your counterpart.” 

“You’re gonna wear it-” Angel swallowed on nothing “-All night?”

Alastor replaced his bow-tie, masking the collar. He tilted his head, demonstrating that he was able to flash slivers of white whenever he wanted. 

“All night.” 

The words hung in the air between them as Angel weighed his options.

Alastor wouldn’t prompt him further. Angel had learnt pretty fast that Alastor would never force or even really pressure Angel into anything. He’d whisper suggestions, promise rewards, but it was always Angel who took the final step over the edge. 

Where he’d catch him with open arms. 

At least, that’s what Angel told himself was happening when he stood on shaky legs to remove his clothes. 

“Oh, _darling_ ” Alastor clapped his hands, overjoyed, “I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind, what fun we’ll have! You’ll be magnificent.”

Angel grumbled, trying to ignore the way he fawned under the attention. He finished undressing, getting swept up in the moment as he fastened the ornate basque around his waist. If there was one thing he planned to find out before this was over was where Alastor found such beautifully made intimates. 

Or, how he always knew how to make Angel feel a lot more classy than he had any right to be. 

Blasphemy aside, of course. 

Angel finished hooking it in place, grinning at how it nipped him in. 

He popped his hip to strike a pose, “Ginger Rodgers eat your fucking heart out, right?” 

“Quite. But how about you dial back the cursing for tonight, dear-” Alastor taunted, handing Angel the plug and a packet of lube he _somehow_ had in his jacket pocket, “You don’t want to be reprimanded so soon, do you?” 

Angel’s whole body flushed.

He took the plug with shaking fingers, swiftly laying back on the bed just so Alastor couldn’t see how much he was shaking.

Alastor didn’t avert his eyes as Angel expected. He lubed up the toy and brought it between his legs, hesitating to give him a chance to look away. 

Alastor didn’t take it.

He watched Angel’s face intently while the plug was worked into his body, ears pricking up when he hissed at the stimulation.

Angel wasn’t even wearing the outfit yet, but this already felt more depraved than he could handle. He tried not to get into it, but couldn’t resist rocking against the plug a little more than was necessary. He’d always had an exhibitionist streak, but it had skyrocketed to the top of his kink list recently. When there was a slight crackle of static in response to his soft whimpers, it was no wonder why. 

Angel finished, sitting up. He searched the pile of clothing, confused when he didn’t find what he was looking for. 

“What about the remote?”

“No need,” Alastor paused, fingers twirling in the air, “It may be a modern device but I’ve experimented with the frequency, and I believe-” 

Angel arched off the bed, shock waves of pleasure shooting through his body, “Ah!”

“-It’s one I can control at will.”

The vibrator stopped, leaving Angel squirming and panting to get his breath back. 

That fucking bastard.

It wasn’t fair. Both Alastor’s ridiculous advantage and that he hadn’t thought to try this _sooner_.

Unsure what to be more pissed about, Angel settled for glowering at the other demon as finished changing. Each layer felt more stifling than the last, especially since the asshole hadn’t bothered to cut out holes for his extra arms. He pulled at the dress trying to get it to sit right until he gave in and crossed his second pair around his waist. 

Angel purposefully left the panties until the end, wincing when he flipped his still hard cock up against his waistband to conceal it for the duration. The last thing his reputation needed was being spotted sporting a tent in this fucking get-up. 

When it came to the veil, he started to lose his nerve. Easier to stomach than a full-blown whimple but still felt like a step too far. He ran it through his fingers, trying to figure out how he was gonna fix it on when the other demon intervened. 

Alastor sighed, grabbing the veil from Angel’s hands and fixing it in place himself. He strategically pinned it on his crown when it became apparent Angel’s hair was too damn wide. He kept dressing Angel, turning him to face the mirror so he could fasten the cross delicately over his neck. 

Angel also anticipated going up in flames when he caught his reflection, only partly relieved when he didn’t.

His cheeks somehow flushed further as he looked himself up and down. The outfit was accurate down to the last detail. 

He shuddered. What would everyone think seeing him like this?

Satan help him, _what if Val found out?_

Even in his demonic form, the outfit gave his demeanor a full 180. Innocent wasn’t a word that was used to describe Angel often, but he certainly looked the part.

With Alastor grinning maniacally behind him. A stark juxtaposition for sure. 

“Good, good. Almost perfect,” Alastor dusted Angel down once before giving his ass a single, sharp smack, “How about a smile?”

Angel moaned at the jolt, bristled, spitting out-

“I’m gonna kill you!” 

-while catching his breath. 

“A few years too late, sadly. Though what a thrilling struggle that would have been-”

Any clap-back Angel had vanished when Alastor pulled him into his side, close enough to count as an embrace. 

“-I’ve never met anyone so utterly reckless in the face of danger-” His breath tickled Angel’s neck as he leant closer, snapping his teeth shut when Angel gasped, “-Ready?”

Angel took a deep breath, giving himself one last chance to back out.

He locked eyes with the other demon in the mirror, shuddering. 

“Yes, Alastor.”

“Excellent.” Alastor started to the door, stopping suddenly, “Oh, before I forget, our roles do call out for a bending of the rules.”

Angel’s heart was pounding erratically, “Huh?”

“I may not be keen on ‘Daddy’-” Alastor grabbed Angel’s arm, pulling him close, “ _Father_ , on the other hand. Well, that’s worth making an exception for.”

Angel’s legs were ready to give way as the vibrator buzzed to life.

* * *

“What are you wearing Angel!? _Mierda_.”

“Oh wow miss Angel, I hardly recognise you!”

“Just when I thought I’d seen everything! I need another fucking drink.”

“Angel that’s uh-” Charlie paused, face going red while trying to add a little more tact than the others, “-An interesting fashion choice.”

Ready for the ground to swallow him whole, Angel grit his teeth and _smiled._

“I thought I’d make an effort tonight, really look the part and all that bull-” He stopped himself, eyes meeting deep red ones already seated at the bar, “I-I don’t want to let the hotel down.” 

Alastor’s eyes sparkled as he took a sip of his drink. The sadist fuck was enjoying every second of one of the most humiliating moments Angel had ever had to endure. 

Angel bit his tongue, swallowed down the bile, lest he give the game away.

Or draw attention to the soft humming sound he was emitting. 

“Well, that’s great! Yeah, really great. But maybe you should-'' Charlie winced as the first knock was heard at the door, “-Ah! I don’t suppose you have time to change now, just be yourself ok?”

Angel nodded, lips firmly sealed as the vibrator was turned up a notch.

The first chance he got he shot daggers in Alastor’s direction, fury rising when he was completely ignored for greeting the new guests. 

How the fuck he was going to get through a whole evening of this, Angel had no idea. He was playing a losing game...and _yet_ -

As he watched the other demon’s eyes briefly flick in his direction, he made a quick promise to himself. To make tonight just insufferable for the smiley prick as it was for him, by any means necessary.

Alastor had every advantage imaginable, anyone in their right mind would do their best to follow the rules and avoid anything to antagonise him.

It was a good job Angel didn’t have a lick of sense left in him. 

The idea forming in his head was a simple one. Alastor wasn’t as unflappable as he made himself out to be. Angel had caught the little slips, the triggers, and planned to exploit everything he’d learnt to truly push his buttons. 

Angel played it safe as a handful of guests filtered into the lobby. He made a mental list of anyone he knew personally. Then a second one for anyone who did a double-take at the porn studio’s darlin’ renouncing their ways. Those in the latter group were perfect for his rapidly forming plan. He couldn’t pull any of the stunts he used to rouse up the clients at the strip joint, but the principle was the same. 

Give them a little attention, make ‘em crave more, switch to someone else while they went mad with envy.

In his element, Angel swanned around the room. Making surface-level conversation, keeping it light, peppering in a little flattery for good measure. He could do this shit with his eyes closed, but tonight he was pulling out all the stops.

Once he had a few demons hooked on his every word Angel wiggled over to the bar. He ordered drinks for his new friends, anticipated the vibrator being turned up perfectly without breaking a sweat.  
He waited until eyes stopped searing into his fur to strike. 

Angel gave Alastor his most dazzling smile yet, sweetly asking if he would be so kind as to pass him some straws. Alastor’s eyes flickered before he obliged-

“Thanks _so_ much Smiles!”

-and he turned back to his audience with a flick of his veil. 

Audience well and truly captivated, Angel started the show. 

He started cracking jokes. 

Specifically;

Every. Single. Stupid joke Alastor had told him in the last month. 

All delivered in rapid succession, each one getting more with more laughter than the last. Even Husk was listening in, snorting and slapping his hand on the bar on a particularly stupid punchline. 

All the while those eyes burnt holes in his back, searing any slivers of uncovered skin.

It was a dirty trick, but one Alastor couldn’t call him out on. Not unless he wanted to explain how much time he and Angel actually spent together.

Angel knew he’d won that round when he had to hide a moan in a cough. 

He swiftly reigned himself back in. Getting carried away was one thing, but the vibrating plug was now nudging his sweet spot just enough to make his cock feel sticky against his stomach. 

Alastor was pushing him to stubble, but Angel was just getting started.

He took a seat at the bar, close to Alastor, forcing him to join in the conversation properly.

Angel continued telling jokes, only these weren’t Alastor’s. 

Before Alastor had derailed his evening, he’d been looking up ‘worst jokes ever’ on his phone. Originally planned for tomorrow's walk, a weird but fitting ‘thankyou’ for the things Alastor did that fell out of the parameters of their deal.

It was worth sacrificing the surprise for the look on Alastor’s face.

And then came the laughter. Clear as day with Alastor caught too off guard to mask it under static. The slight screech when he caught himself further sealing the deal. 

Fucking _finally_. 

After floundering for weeks, Angel had truly beaten Alastor at his own game. The victory, however temporary, was sweet enough to carry him through the rest of the night.

At least, that’s what Angel thought. 

As the guests started leaving he realised just how suspiciously calm he’d managed to stay. 

Alastor had kept the vibrator on, with a few spikes, but nothing Angel couldn’t handle. If anything the teasing had made the more dull parts of the evening more bearable. He knew just how intense this toy could be, but maybe Alastor didn’t know how it-

Angel caught the other demon watching him as Charlie ushered the last stragglers out the door. Alastor’s eyes darkened, his smile going from its normal curve to a salacious smirk.

He was holding back on purpose. 

_Shit._

Alastor gathered everyone around the table, gently persuading them to play one final game, as a celebration. 

Angel’s fate was cemented when Alastor took a seat directly opposite him, fixing his bowtie in a way that temporarily exposed his collar. 

His sharp intake of breath veered dangerously close to a whine when the plug went up a single notch. 

This was Alastor’s plan all along, that much was obvious when he flicked his tongue over his teeth. Angel was left sweating over how far he was willing to go. 

Husk was awake enough to be goaded into picking the game, and drunk enough to insist it be a drinking one. Two truths, one lie. If you were caught, you took a shot. If you were able to fool everyone then they took the forfeit instead. 

After minimal pushback, Charlie agreed to bend her usual rules about drinking games. She still checked, and double-checked, that they wouldn’t go so far as to get Angel drunk. Her commitment to his cause was admirable if a moot point. 

Kinda hard to keep on the straight and narrow when trying not to fuck yourself senseless on the toy in your ass. All while making eyes at the demon causing it, nonetheless.

Angel was hit with the strongest sense of déjà vu.

Husk went first. He rambled his way through an obvious lie that everyone called him on before he’d even finished his sentence. 

Well, everyone but Angel. 

He was too focused on trying to hide his now fully hard cock in the pleats of the tunic. It was much more difficult to deal with sitting down, especially now every fiber in his being was begging him to ride the toy properly. What Angel had originally perceived as going easy felt far too much like edging, now he thought about it. Alastor had been working him up slowly, to the point where the slightest change in intensity threatened to send him over the edge. 

Angel tried his best to focus. Vaggie went next and he was the one to catch her lie. Impressive considering he wanted nothing more than to throw his head against the table and scream. 

Nifty was surprisingly good, fooling everyone with an outlandish yet true story of star-crossed lovers turned partners in crime. It certainly shed a little more light on how one as seemingly sweet as her had ended up in cahoots with Alastor.

That broad was a hell of a lot more dangerous than she let on.

Unfortunately, Charlie’s stories flew right over his head. 

Alastor feigned interest, choosing the perfect moment to turn the dial up until Angel had to push the palms of his concealed hands against his crotch. 

He caught his moan in the nick of time, silently begging until Alastor cut him some slack. 

Angel shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut as he recovered. He knew he should be worried about the noise, how inappropriate it all was, or the fact his face was lit up like a Christmas tree.

But he was loving every second. 

He was fighting down humiliated tears but he couldn’t think of anything worse than Alastor stopping. 

He could think of several things he wanted more, though.

Like Al throwing him down on the table exposing his shame in front of everyone. Or making Alastor’s radio screech if he lifted his skirt and begged him to finish what he started. He wanted it so much he could almost hear the other demon calling his name.

_Angel...Angel._

Wait, no. Alastor really was saying his name.

_Shit._

“Uh, yeah?” 

“It’s your turn, Angel,” Alastor leant on the table, chin resting on his hands, _leering_ , “Pay attention.”

“Unless you think you should stop?” Charlie added, moving a little too close for comfort, “You’re looking a little unwell, I don’t want you pushing your limits.”

“Oh Angel’s not one to give up that easily,” Alastor tilted his head, eyes narrowing, “Are you dear?”

A challenge if Angel ever saw one.

One he should definitely back down from.

“I’m good- I’m good, You don’t have t’ worry ‘bout me drinking too much or whatever.” 

A flutter of his lashes and another winning smile.

“I ain’t gonna lose.” 

_Showtime_

Angel mirrored Alastor’s pose, taunting him.

“I once dressed up as my twin to trick my crush into going on a date-” 

The vibrator buzzed erratically, determined to keep him guessing. 

“I-uh-I can speak two languages total and-”

Angel took in a sharp breath, cock pulsing as he was pushed to his limit.

“My real name a-also starts with an A.” 

Angel’s eyes snapped upward, goading him to be the one to call him out when he knew the answer. Alastor’s expression didn’t change, all traces of the earlier cracks in his visage sealed shut. Angel was gearing up to crawl over the table to strangle the bastard when Charlie jumped in. 

“Hmmm-I’m pretty sure I remember you signing something beginning with M,” She tapped her chin rapidly, “Mark? No, Matthew! That’s it, that’s gotta be the lie!”

“Nope!”Angel slapped his hands on the table, “I speak three languages. Four if you count a bit of broken Spanish,” 

He finger gunned at Vaggie’s, snorting at her surprise. 

“And I don’t ever sign my real name no more. Sorry, toots.” 

A chorus of groans sounded round the table as Husk poured their shots. Angel stared at Alastor for the duration, no longer caring if anyone noticed. 

All so he could see the flash of white on his neck when he downed his drink. 

“Your turn.” Angel purred. 

Alastor’s ears twitched. 

“Despite my background, I once had the honor of playing saxophone in one of Whiteman’s ensembles. Full house, standing ovation, the whole nine yards-” He mimed playing the instrument, chuckling to himself before adding, “On that note, I killed a man with nothing more than a toothpick that very same weekend.” 

Sharp inhales echoed from around the table but Angel didn’t dare make a sound. 

The asshat commanding everyone’s attention had somehow turned the dial up to _max_.

“And hmmm, let me think. I am currently engaged in a battle of wits against the most _enticing_ adversary,” Alastor drummed his fingers absentmindedly as he spoke, eyes downcast, “Surprisingly, evenly matched. Each able to push the others' buttons with remarkable ease” 

“I will admit they currently hold the upper hand,” His eyes finally met Angel’s, positively sparkling with barely hidden excitement, “Infuriating really. They refuse to leave my thoughts, even for a second.”

Husk practically fell off his chair, howling with laughter.

“The last one, what kinda bullshit is that?” He wiped a tear from his “You made it too damn easy, Al.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement. Even Angel. 

Astounding he managed to do anything considering he was currently squeezing the base of cock. 

He managed to stop himself from making a mess of outfit by sheer luck. 

Alastor poured himself the shot, pressing the glass against his lips without a single word. 

Husk wouldn’t let it go, “Did you really kill a guy with a fucking toothpick?”

“A tall tale, one I will save for another time,” Alastor set his glass on the table, the soft clink making Angel jump, “With less sensitive souls around the table. Even our dear Angel resembles a sheet.” 

Several sets of eyes landed on Angel just as he lost the ability to breathe. 

“Yeah he does-” Husk raised one of his long eyebrows, “You alright there, legs?”

“Fine and dandy, I’m gonna-” He wheezed, getting up quickly. 

He held the dress away from his body with his second set of arms, turning quickly to start immediately walking away.

“-gonna grab some water.”

Angel headed towards the kitchen, completely on autopilot. He didn’t bother switching on the light, falling against the sink, panting.

He ran the tap, splashing water on his face, only just resisting the urge to drown himself in the sink. 

That wasn’t fucking _fair_!

Alastor crossed the line. 

He _knew_ what his words did to Angel, and that- _that_ -

_They refuse to leave my thoughts, even for a second._

Angel crumpled on the counter. The vibrator was still going but it felt like background noise next to the thumping of his heart. 

He needed Alastor. _Now_.

He wanted him so much and that _asshole_ was gonna leave him high and dry. He was sure of it. 

Alastor had him in his grasp, easily able to manipulate him since his desires were so differently aligned. He could refuse to let Angel cum for the remainder of their time together, if he really wanted.

And Angel, absolutely drunk on whatever Alastor was doing to him, would fucking thank him for it. 

He was about to shove his fist in his mouth and scream when a familiar chuckle sent shivers up his spine. 

“I’ve been sent to check on your wellbeing.” 

Alastor murmured against Angel’s shoulder, boxing him against the counter. 

“Well, I may have tipped the scales in my favour but I hope you understand” He ran a hand across Angel’s hip, claws digging into the scars, “no one would enjoy seeing you like this as much as I do.”

Angel’s knees buckled but Alastor caught him, spinning him around so they were face to face. 

And- _wow_ -

Alastor looked like he was going to devour Angel whole. 

“Al- _Please_ ” Angel panted, last fragments of pride utterly decimated, “Please, can we go upstairs- I need-I-”

“Far too suspicious-” Alastor shook his head, pupils flickering wildly, “We’ll just have to make do.”

Alastor had shown he didn’t need to twirl his fingers to control the vibrator, but the show he made only made it all the more intense. 

He backed away slightly, gesturing for Angel to lift his skirt to which he immediately obliged. 

A hot flush of shame hit Angel as he was exposed, trembling and dripping over himself. 

Alastor tutted at the sight, loosening his tie, and Angel almost keeled over with how turned on he was. 

_How?_ How had this smiley bastard clawed his way under Angel’s skin, making him like stuff he’d only faked an interest in before. He was hell’s fucking top porn star, for crying out loud. But Alastor-

He’d turned everything on its head in just over a week. 

“If you don’t turn it down, I’m gonna come-” Angel whined, rocking his hips in the air as his cock twitched, “I can’t- It’s too-”

“Oh, dearest-” 

Alastor soothed a thumb down Angel’s face, making him gasp, before lifting him onto the counter, moving between his legs.

“That’s the point.”

Angel’s legs twitched, desperate to wrap around the warm body in front of him, “Fucking christ, Al” 

“ _Sacrilege_!”

Alastor drew out every syllable, expression darkening as he wrapped a hand around Angel’s throat.

“And Such a filthy mouth- ” His thumb trailed down Angel’s neck, piercing the skin,“-Are you ready to repent, Angel?”

“Yes-Al-” 

Angel’s heart stuttered, filthy ideas flashing before his eyes.

He coloured further under Alastor’s questioning gaze.

He knew he shouldn’t say it, he knew it was wrong. 

But Angel couldn’t resist. 

“Will you forgive me, father?” He purred, rolling his hips to expose himself further, “I’ve been so bad.” 

The hand tightened around his throat, blocking the airflow, the other-

Alastor’s other hand wrapped around Angel’s cock. 

Angel would’ve screamed if he wasn’t gasping for breath. 

There was hardly a spot on Angel’s body that he hadn’t touched in one way or another. But it felt so damn different. To have Alastor’s actual hand around his cock. 

Even Alastor seemed affected, frozen, the slightest tinge of colour dusting his otherwise smug face. 

Then his eyes turned black, his hand fucking _moving_.

Angel writhed and struggled against the counter, any breath he had left knocked out of him. Alastor was jacking Angel off in the kitchen like it was both nothing and everything at once. 

It was too much. 

A few quick pumps and Angel was done. He came hard, eyes rolling back as he braced himself on the counter. 

It felt incredible. 

Despite having his hand completely covered in thick white strands, Alastor didn’t stop. He kept moving until Angel was jerking uncontrollably, grabbing Alastor’s arm.

It wasn’t intentional, but both of them froze. 

Angel’s stomach dropped. 

“Sorry,” he blurted out, dropping Alastor’s arm like it was a live wire.

In a way, it was.

He can’t have been the only one to have felt _that._

“It’s quite alright, Angel-” Alastor whispered, “-and I’m partly to blame.” 

The reply was a little too quick and strained, but Angel believed him. 

He’d be a pile of dust if Alastor was really mad. 

Alastor washed his gloves off in the sink, silently, handing Angel a cloth when he was done. 

His panties were going to need more than a wipe down but he managed to remove any growing stains on the skirt reasonably well. 

Angel was still flushed, outfit a little crumpled, but put together enough not to be glaringly suspicious. 

Much calmer, Alastor went back to invading Angel’s personal space, fixing the veil himself with a more familiar smile. 

“We need to return, darling, lest they send out another search party.”

“Yeah, yeah- gimme a minute-”

Angel reached for a glass, filling it with water. He took several sips, wondering how he could tell Alastor that his proximity really wasn’t helping.

That notion was immediately dismissed when Alastor’s hand came to rest on his hip, thumbing the hidden scars much more gently than before. 

Angel’s voice was still croaky when he asked, “So, Which one was the lie?”

“Hmm?”

“The game, ya idiot.”

“Oh!” 

Alastor smacked his forehead, saving Angel the job.

“The band I’m afraid,” his smile dropped significantly, “Nothing more than a pipe dream.” 

Angel’s brow furrowed. That was conflicting. Not the killing part, that was expected by now. But to hear that there were some things Alastor hadn’t been able to charm his way into was surprising. Not to mention it tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. 

Angel put a pin in that, planning to needle more of that story out of Alastor at a future date. 

When he wasn’t set on gaining back some well-needed ground. 

“You really think I’m enticin’?” he teased, sticking out his tongue. 

“If you can be persuaded to wear this again, I’d even stretch to beguiling.” 

Angel bat his eyelashes, twirling on the spot, “Anything for you, Al.” 

Said in jest, of course. 

But Alastor’s face lighting up in return did things to Angel he couldn’t give words to. 

They walked back together, Alastor’s hand splayed on the small of his back until the last second. 

Angel’s steps turned hesitant, expecting everyone to somehow know everything they’d been doing. To get to half-hearted greetings and a few words about his well-being was more of a blessing than Angel had any right to. 

He took his seat back at the table, quickly getting up to speed in the new game Charlie had them playing. 

If anyone else noticed that Alastor’s tie was askew, they kept their mouths shut. 

Just like they’d ignore the undignified squeak when it was decided that Angel’s break was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Like before- come kink shame me on [ Nsfw Twitter](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon)
> 
> I hope I don't need to say (but I will anyways) This level of public play is not ok irl unless you're in a kink space and even then be sure to check consent of everyone involved if it's not explicitly stated. 
> 
> (it's hot in fantasy tho, oh _boi_ ) 
> 
> Art for the kitchen scene [ here :)](https://twitter.com/NTrashdemon/status/1370112098190118912)


End file.
